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IRELAND, 



AS I SAW IT 



CHARACTER, CONDITION, AND PROSPECTS 



THE PEOPLE. 



By VVM. S. BALCH. 

J 1.-. 



My people ai-e destroyed for lack of knowledge. — Hosea. 



/ 



NEW- YORK: 
GEO. P. PUTNAM, 155 BROADWAY. 

^%^^^^-<>t: ^''^^ C^<^^ ^/^"^ 



THE LIBRARY 
or CONGRESS 

WASHlNOTOir 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by 

HALLOCK & LYON, 
in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New- York. 






W. n. Dunham, 138 Fulton-st., Printer, 

AND 

TuRNET & Brother, lli Spruce-st., Stereotypers. 



r 



9f 



To 
FREDERICK C. HAVEMEYER, 

MY CONSTANT FRIEND AND FELLOVV-TRAVELEB, 
AND 
THE WITNESS OF THE SCENES AND PLACES HEREIN DESCRIBED, 
THESE PAGES 

ARE RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED 
BY ^ 

THE AUTHOR. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 

THE VOYAGE. 

The Preparation.. — Early Impressions. — Desire to Travel. — Hesitation. — 
Going to Sea. — Sea-Sickness. — Grandeur of the Sea. — Art of Sail- 
ing. — Faithfulness of Sailors. — -Their Hardships. --Influence of Weath- 
er. — Individualism. — Infallibility. — Discussions. — Sunday. Wor- 
ship. ---Freedom. — Controversy. — Encouraging. - - - 9 

CHAPTER II. 

THE LANDING. 

Sight of Land, — Hailed by some Fishermen. — Leave the Ship. — An 
Irish Hooker.~A Dinner.— The Shore.--Landing.— Kinsale.— To Cork. 29 

CHAPTER III. 

A DAY IN CORK. 

A View of Cork. — A Reflection . — An Unexpected Acquaintance. — Irish 
Gratitude for American Benevolence. — Mardyke. — An American 
Ship. — Weariness. — A Lunch. — Various Topics. — A Car ride. — Blar- 
ney Castle. — Reflections. — Father Mathew. — Description of the City. 44 

CHAPTER IV. 

TO THE WEST OF IRELAND. 

A Rainy Morning. — Old Castles. — The Conquest of Ireland. — Ma- 
croom. — A Living Castle. — Mill-Street. — A Scene of Wretched- 
ness. — A Beautiful Prospect. — Cloghereen. — Sir Richard Courtney. — 
Turk Falls. — A Grand View. — Potcheen. — Attendants. — A Pedlar. 71 

CHAPTER V. 

KILLARNEY. 

A Rural Dwelling. — National Schools. — Ascent of Mangerton. — Devil's 
Punch Bowl. — Bachelor's Spring.— Mountain Bog.--A Splendid View. 
— The Descent. — The Lakes. — Dinas Island. — Glena. — Innisfallen. 
— Ross Castle. — Lord Kenmare. — The Town. — Dinner. - - 99 

CHAPTER VI. 

A SUNDAY IN IRELAND. 

An Early Walk. — A Grand Scene. — A Lonely Girl. — Character.— Dif- 
ficulties. — A Remedy. — Sir Richard. — Killarney — A Crowd. — The 
Church. — A Little Boy. — Leaving. — Bigotry. — A Retrospect. — A 
Poor Family.— Tralee.— The Church.— The Chances. - - 132 

CHAPTER VII. 

FROM TRALEE TO LIMERICK. 

Castle Green.— A Scene of Beggary. — The Cause. — Cashin Bog. — Lis- 
towel. — Tarbert. — Middle-men. — Condition of Tenants. — Stir-a- 



bout. — A Family. — Oppression of Landlords. — Emigrants leaving 
Home. — The Separation. — Taken for an Englishman. — The Shannon. 
— A Steamboat. — The Passengers. — The Wrong of Vengeance. — An 
Ambitious Mother. — A Minstrel. — Scenery. — Glynn. — Bunrutty. — 
Social Evils. — Useless Agitations. - - - - - 175 

CHAPTER VIII. 

LIMERICK. 

Situation of Limerick. — A Porter. — Railvs^ay Station. — Scenes of Sin 
and Misery. — The Market. — Handsome Women. — Artillery Bar- 
racks. — Oppression. — A Wedding. — A Catholic Chapel. — Theory 
and Practice. — " Spitting." — The Cathedral. — Bishop's Court. — 
Monuments. — A Fine Landscape. — The Citadel. — History. — Inter- 
vievi' with the Prioress of a Nunnery. — National Schools, their 
Changes and Present Condition. — Reading Room. — Newspapers. — Li- 
merick-Stone. — Gentry. — Beggars. ----- 235 

CHAPTER IX. 

MORE TALK THAN TRAVEL. 

Settling a Bill. — The Canal. — O'Brien's Castle. — Falls of the Shannon. — 
Castle-Connel. — Tipperary. — Causes of Outrages. — Remedies.- — 
Struggles for Land. — Evictions. — Toomevara. — Intimidations. — 
Landlords at Fault. — Good Usage makes Good Tenants. — Many 
Proofs. — American Farmers. — Hints for Englishmen. - - 278 

CHAPTER X. 

THE UPPER SHANNON. 

Killaloe. — Lough Derg. — Landing Passengers. — Monopolies. — Holy 
Islands. — Personal and Moral Beauty. — English Ability to Help Ire- 
land. — Portumna. — Ancient and Modem Works. — Redwood Castle. 
— Victoria Locke. — A Beautiful Spot. — Bennagher. — War Establish- 
ment. — Paying Priests. — Monasteries. — Shannon-Harbor. - - 305 

CHAPTER XI. 

DUBLIN. 

A Canal Boat. — A Conversation Overheard. — British and American 
Valor. — Personal Liberty essential to Prosperity. — First Principles to 
be studied. — Individual and Social Responsibility. — The Preparations 
adequate to a Republic. — Dublin. ----- 342 

CHAPTER XII. 

TRIAL OF MR. MITCHEL. 

A Restless Night. — Domestic Affairs. — Trial of John Mitchel. — The 
Court.— Mr. Holmes.— His Defence.-The Excitement.-The Military. 
— Rashness of the Reformers. — Ireland Unfitted for a Republic. — Pay- 
ing the Catholic Clergy. — Irish Character. — A forcible Repeal impossi- 
ble. — Origin and Exercise of Power. ----- 379 

CHAPTER XIII. 

.TOURNEY TO THE NORTH. 

Phcenix Park. — Cars.— Scenery. — Drogheda. — Carrickmacross.-A Fair. 
— Monoghan. — A Conversation. — Ballygawley. — Fintona. — Sunday. 
— Omagh. — Strabane.— Londonderry. — The Foyle. — Giant's Cause- 
way. — Farewell. ------- 401 



INTRODUCTORY EPISTLE. 

To MY DEAR Friend : 

You ask me to publish an account of my travels in the Old World, for 
your gratification, and for the instruction of your children. You flatter me, 
when you compliment my Letters, and say you " want a book written in my 
peculiar style— plam, familiar, and off-hand, and yet so minute in its details 
that others may see what I saw, and feel as I felt." 

You impose on me a difficult task, and one I feel myself incapable of 
periorming to my own satisfaction, much less to yours. Still, I am anxious 
to plea.=e you, and willing to help amuse your children ; and, knowing that you 
will be rather generous than critical, I venture to offer you the following pages 
on Ireland. Whether other volumes, on other countries, will follow it, de- 
pends upon circumstances not wholly under my control. For this, I bespeak 
your favorable consideration. The numerous calls upon my t'me, the duties 
of my vocation, and the state of my health, have delayed the appearance of 
the present work, and prevented me from doing little more than fill up my 
notes, sketched during such leisure moments as I could find while performing 
my journey. 

I went to see and learn — to gratify myself ; and, to refresh my memory in 
after years, I made as copious notes as possible — -jotted down, at the time, 
such thoughts, impressions, and incidents as occurred to me. I did not take 
much pams to reckon time or measure proportions, in a way to give minute 
descriptions. Historical and statistical facts are only introduced to add vivid- 
ness to the pictures drawn. I traveled neither as philosopher, sage, or poet, 
but simply as a plain republican, curious to see, and anxious to learn all I 
could, in a given time. 

Of course, I measured every thing by such standard as I had, and pro- 
nounced my own judgment upon it. I went not to ape the manners of others 
—to Europeanize my notions and habits — to be pleased with every thing 
foreign, and dissatisfied with the plain, homespun habits of our own country. 
Neither did I carry a bigoted attachment to the customs and institutions un- 
der which I was reared. I went without prejudice, and under the influence 
of a principle broad and deep, which recognizes kings as companions, 
beggars as equals, and all men as brethren. I carried with me a disposition to 
study the true, approve the good, honor the great, and admire the beautiful. 

That I love my own country and its liberal institutions, and now, more than 
ever, I will not deny ; but that does not impair my judgment, nor blind my 
sense of justice to other lands ? Are we not all brethren ? Does not one 
Lord rule over us ? Is it not the dictate of Christianity to rise above all local 
and national distinctions, in our estimate of right and wrong, of good and 
evil 2 Is not such the dictate of our higher nature ? You will pardon me, 
then, for the freedom I use. I write as I think, express what I feel, and de- 
scribe what I saw. 



y INTRODUCTORY EPISTLE. 

I own I have touched upon some delicate points, trenched upon opinions by 
some held sacred, and described things which might have been let alone, for 
which some will condemn, and no body praise me. It is all the same to me, 
if I have told the. truth. Facts will remain, and my opinions go for what they 
are worth. 

I gazed with astonishment and admiration on much I saw, and my heart 
yearned deeply over the wrongs, oppressions, ignorance, and misery I beheld 
I saw more to approve in the character of the people than I expected, more 
to lament in their condition, and more to condemn in the operation of aristo- 
cratic institutions. But these were undergoing such rapid transformations — 
every thing was so agitated, so unsettled, that I could do little more than con- 
template the past, and catch glimpses of the future through the auguries of 
the present. 

I answer, then, your request, by these brief sketches of what I saw, and as 
I saw it, and the reflections suggested at the time. You may not see as I saw, 
nor feel as I felt. In honesty, I can describe nothing different from what it ap- 
peared to me. I had no eyes, no heart but my own. You may dissent from 
my conclusions — that is your right ; but you must not impeach my veracity ; 
for I have tried to be faithful, let praise or condemnation fall where it might. 

I have been minute — I hope not tediously so — in all cases where I thought 
it necessary to a clear apprehension of the case in hand. As you say, " the 
fault of many books of travel is, they deal too much in generalities, describe 
great things, make us acquainted with castles and kings, but not with cottages 
and peasants — as if the writer had seen nothing humble in all his travels." 
My sympathies have ever been with the " common people," and for their sakes 
I write. I commenced my journey with a detennination to pay particular 
attention to the condition of the masses — to keep along the sid(!-hill of life, 
so as to see below as well as above me, and calculate the chances for the 
improvement of the one, and to amuse myself with the proud displays of the 
other. I have done both — looked on kings and queens, in their palaces ; eat- 
en " stir-a-bout" with cottiers on the banks of the Shannon ; " butterbrod" 
with the peasantry of Deutschland, and green figs with the lazzaroni of Italy ; 
and I have formed my estimate of things as they appeared to me. 

Of Ireland, to which country the present volume is devoted, little has been writ- 
ten by American travelers. I therefore venture to supply a work which, I trust, 
will afford some entertainment and instruction relative to a country of the 
character and condition of which we have heard much, but known little. Since 
the composition of these pages, a work entitled " Letters on the Condition of 
the People of Ireland, by T. Campbell Foster," has fallen into my hands, 
from which I have made some valuable extracts, and appended them as notes, 
to sustain the positions I have taken. 

I have sought to embody just enough of my personal naiTative to keep the 
reader close by me, and let him know what sort of a companion he is tra- 
veling with, that he may form a just estimate of the facts and circumstances 
detailed, and get a clearer insight into the character, condition, and prospects 
of the people. 



IRELAND. 



CHAPTER I. 

CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 

The Preparation. — Early Impressions. — Desire to Travel. — Hesitation. — A 
Passenger goes Home. — Going to Sea. — Dull Weather. — Sea-sickness. — 
Grandeur of the Sea. — Art of Sailing. — Faithfulness of Sailors. — Their 
Hardships. — Influence of Weather. — Individualism. — Infallibility. — Discus- 
sions. — Sunday. — Worship. — ^Freedom. — Controversy. — Encouraging. 

Ireland occupies a peculiar position. It is intimately 
connected with the ancient and the modern. It properly 
belongs to neither. The ravages of time have demolished 
the Old, but the spirit of progress has not constructed the 
New. Nor can it be ranked in the transition series. It is 
in a state of social and political abnegation. The relics of 
feudalism are found in abundance among the mouldering 
ruins of its cloistered abbeys, its tottering castles, and moss- 
covered cathedrals ; but are more distinctly seen in the ex- 
treme wretchedness of its starved, oppressed, and demented 
population. 

Still, faith espies, as in a grave-yard, ethereal specters 
which shall assume forms of life and beauty ; and hope, 
clinging to its object, is dug out of the accumulated wrongs 
of centuries. It requires all the works of the former, and 
the patience of the latter to endure the sight of present 
degradation and misery which abound in such odious con- 
trast with the physical beauty and fertility of the country. 

The casual observer will stumble upon little to please him 
or excite his curiosity, except in natural scenery. Objects 



10 RECOLLECTIOiyr OF EARLY DAYS. 

of loathing will meet him every where ; and, if he has no 
heart to pity, no hand for relief, no far-seeing philanthropy, 
he will turn back in disgust, none the wiser for having looked 
upon this dark picture. But if he desires to learn, and 
has the ability to appreciate the actual condition of a peo- 
ple governed too much, and loved too little, he may here 
see the most indubitable proofs, and cogent illustrations. 
He will find no difficulty in tracing all these miseries to the 
curse of aristocracy, and the social depravity of the people* 
and will learn valuable lessons for the regulation of his 
own conduct. Let us go and see it. 

THE PREPARATION. 

In my youthful days, I lived among the romantic moun- 
tains of my native State. ■ My father's dwelling was situat- 
ed on a hill-side, with a deep valley opening towards the 
south-east, down which ran a babbling brook, while along 
the west, a mile distant, was stretched a frowning ridge of 
mountains. From the window of my chamber I could look 
far down that valley, and, in a clear day, see the grand Mo- 
nadnock, at a distance of fifty miles, towering, in proud and 
solitary majesty, high above all surrounding objects. In 
spring and summer I used to see the sun rise up from be- 
hind it, and I wondered where it came from. Close by its 
base lived my maternal grandfather, who, during his patri- 
archal visits, often told us about that mountain, and the 
magnificent scenery presented to the view of one upon its 
summit. While listening to him, my young heart burned 
with a desire to stand on the top of that mountain, and 
gaze over all the world, which I thought could be easily 
done from a position so lofty. 

In the pasture above the house, to which I was sent daily 
for the cows, there is a high rock where I have sat with 
my sisters, hour after hour, gazing over the broad expanse 
of hills and dales, and drinking in the love of natural scenery, 
and forming schemes to travel and see the wonders of the 
world. To the north and east were seen the bold outlines 
of the Granite Hills, whose undulating summits formed the 



INFLUENCE OF SCENERY. 11 

boundary of the visible horizon, and from which stood up 
the lofty peaks of the Moosehillock, Sunnapee, Kearsarge, 
and Monadnock, as towers upon pictured ramparts. I 
wondered what was beyond them. A little to the south of 
the latter I was shown the Wachusett, and they told me 
that not far from it was Boston, by the side of a great wa- 
ter, larger than all the land we could see. My father once 
went to that town, and, when he returned, he told us much 
about it ; that the houses were made of bricks, and so close 
together that one touched the other ; that ships as large as 
the meeting-house were along the side of it ; and that there 
were moi'e stores than houses, and barns, and sheds in all 
the town in which we lived. Oh, how I longed to go to that 
town, and see those ships, and that great sea ! 

In early spring, my father sometimes allowed me to go, 
with an older brother, to the " sugar-lot," a mile distant, and 
near the top of Mount Terrible, which had hitherto limited 
my vision in that direction. Here was a fine collection of 
maple trees, from which was manufactured the sugar for 
the family. When the crust upon the deep snows would 
bear me, and I was large enough not to fear the bears, and 
the wolves, and the "quill-shooting" hedgehogs, I would 
wander off, occasionally, to amuse myself alone. One 
fine morning J went to the top of the mountain, and, through 
the naked branches of the forest trees, I caught indistinct 
glimpses of something beyond. I climbed a scragged spruce, 
thinking that from the top of it I could see where the sun 
went down, and where storms of wind, and rain, and thun- 
der came from. What was my surprise when I saw the 
deep valley of the Wantastiquet, and the main ridge of the 
Green Mountains, stretching to the north and south further 
than eye could reach ; with the peaks of other mountains 
still beyond ! My eyes wandered in all directions over the 
vast and varied scenery with astonishment and admiration. 
I had never dreamed the world was half so large ; and now 
I could not see the end of it. I was not satisfied. The 
sphere of my imagination was enlarged. My soul was 



12 FAVORITE STUDIES. 

fired by a fervent desire — which burns even now with in- 
creased intensity, after having looked upon the grand and 
beautiful in my own country — to overleap the barriers 
which had hitherto limited my ambition, and to explore, 
unconstrained, the new and wonderful things of earth. I 
wanted to see where the sun went to rest, and whence it 
rose, — the chambers from whose windows gleamed his ear- 
liest and latest rays. I panted to see the great ocean, and 
the ships upon it, and the town where the houses touched 
each other. 

Behold the reason why I am now seated in this lone 
cabin, with the Old World before me, and my friends and 
country behind ! 

Reared among such scenes, with few books, and little 
time to read them, I early learned to love natural scenery. 
Mountains and valleys, meadows and forests, the beautiful 
and sublime in nature, were always before me. The naiads 
and napeae of my mountain home danced about me, and 
sweetened my solitude with their music. The birds, the 
speckled trout, and the wild flowers became my compan- 
ions. But there was in me an instinct they could not 
charm — a fire that would not go out. I wanted to go into 
the world and see it. Every hill, and tree, and rock, and 
rill had become familiar to me, and I longed for something 
new. With what profound attention I listened to the sto- 
ries of those who had been about the world, when they 
talked with my father and detailed what they had seen ! 

At school, Geography became my favorite study; and 
books of travel I devoured with the keenest relish. Every 
place about which I read was mapped in my mind, and 
every scene described formed an image which neither time 
nor care can efface. To me, the most interesting portions 
of the earth were Greece, and Rome, and the Holy Land. 
Around the last were clustered the memories and feelings 
awakened by a pei'usal of my mother's Bible. Ever since 
I could read the Holy Book, I have longed to go and see 
the places where were performed the sacred dramas de- 



DESIRE TO TRAVEL. 13 

scribed in its pages ; to climb over Lebanon, and rest in 
the shadow of its cedars ; to wander through the valley of 
Esdraelon, and among the hills of Samaria ; to wet my feet 
in the dews of Hermon, and bathe in the floods of Jordan ; 
to eat fish on the shores of Genesareth, and drink water 
from Jacob's well ; to repose in the cave of Elijah, and 
gather roses on the plains of Sharon ; to stand upon Oli- 
vet, and look upon the "joy of the whole earth ;" to go through 
Jerusalem, along the via Dolorosa, to Calvary and the tomb 
of Arimathea! I have studied hard to understand its de- 
scriptive language, that I might rejoice in the blessed truths 
of the Bible. But there seems to hang a mistiness about 
its descriptions, accumiilated by time, distance, and the pe- 
culiar circumstances, which can be dispelled only by a per- 
sonal examination of the localities over which have been so 
long spread the shadows of the past. To see, or to touch 
these objects and find them realities, would remove the last 
doubt, and every description would become plain and forci- 
ble, and seal its truth upon the heart. 

Nor was my young ambition confined to the scenes of 
Jewry, rich as they are in the records of startling events ; 
for my reading led me to classic Greece and world-conquer- 
ing Rome, around whose histories there circles a vague- 
ness like that which has fallen on the land of miracles — the 
scene of man's redemption. As one reads, he desires to 
see ; and I longed to visit Mars-hill, and the pass of Ther- 
mopylae ; to see the ruins of the Eternal city, and its living 
monuments ; to cross the Alps at St. Bernard, and hear 
Mass in St. Peter's. The more modern nations, likewise, 
have their attractions — their temples of pride ; their galleries 
of art ; their museums of curiosities ; their libraries of printed 
knowledge ; their old feudal castles ; the working of aristo- 
cratic institutions upon the condition of the masses of the 
people ; these, and a thousand other considerations, whetted 
my ambition, and led me to form a plan to visit the Old 
World, which became the study of my days and the dream 
of my nights. What was a mere aspiration of youth, be- 

2 



14 HESITATION. 

came a fixed purpose of maturer age — an object of my life, 
worthy of much labor, care, and sacrifice, to the accom- 
plishment of which much effort has been directed. 

My favored time has come at length ; the preparation 
has been made. My hesitations have been overcome; — 
who does not hesitate, when wife, and children, and friends, 
with heaving hearts, and tearful eyes, and choked voices, 
cling about to breathe a long, perhaps a last, farewell ; and 
would, we know, though they say it not, dissuade us from 
an absence so long, and a journey so dangerous ? 

But the last words have been spoken ; the last look, the 
last signal given ; and our ship is floating on the bay, wait- 
ing for wind and tide to carry us out to sea. 



GOING TO SEA.. -• 

A'pril 27. — The feelings of one's heart, on parting with 
home, and friends, and country, to venture upon the uncer- 
tain sea, and among the turbulent commotions of strange 
countries, in times like the present, are too profound and in- 
tense to find utterance in words. ; and the anguish is 
made keener by being detained in close proximity to those 
whom we have left behind, perhaps for ever. We long to 
return and gladden their hearts, and our own ; to light a 
smile where we last saw the darkness of sorrow, to utter 
words we could not speak at parting. The excitement of 
preparation is all over, and the warm blood curdles about 
the heart. We feel faint, and sick, and sad. Then comes the 
real struggle ; affection reproving desire ; duty quarreling 
with ambition ; the heart warring with the head ; fear 
growling at courage, and stirring up apprehension to a med- 
dlesome interference with the plans and hopes of years. 
Hesitation points at assurance, and, like the forlorn rush 
of an assailant on his foe, makes a last desperate effort 
to overpower resolution and control judgment. Oh, the 
bitterness, the misery of such an hour ! Heaven only 
has recorded the thoughts and feelings of my last night. — 



GOING TO SEA. 15 

I feel calm and assured this morning, and am only anxious 
to start on our voyage. 

One of our passengers has been overpowered by appre- 
hension and gone ashore, preferring the security of home 
to a voyage across the trackless deep. He was a middle- 
aged man, who had suffered much from sickness. He had 
been advised by his physician to cross the sea, and he resolved 
to do so ; but his heart has failed him, and he prefers to re- 
turn, at the forfeit of his passage money. 

At eight o'clock this morning we saw, with satisfaction, 
the captain and pilot putting off from Castle Garden in a 
small boat. All was ready to receive them. They came on 
board, and in an hour we were drifting slowly down the 
harbor. A south wind coming up, we were obliged to 
come to an anchor in the lower bay, where we lay 
till night, when a favorable breeze set us on our course, 
and we made Sandy Hook with a single tack ; and passed 
the lighthouse at half past seven. At eight, we discharged 
our pilot, and put directly to sea. As long as we could, 
we gazed through the darkening twilight at the receding 
shores of our native land ; and when we could trace the 
dim outline no longer, nor see a twinkle of the beacon 
light, we raised a prayer to Heaven for ourselves and friends, 
our home and country, and retired, lonely and sad, to our 
room, feeling more conscious than ever of the littleness and 
helplessness of man, and the greatness and goodness of God. 



MY JOURNAL. 

April 29. — Yesterday was a dull, dreary day, light wind 
and little progress. Our spirits were duller than the wea- 
ther. To-day, we have a clear sky, a warm sun, and a 
smart breeze. Everything is cheerful, and we are happy. 
Our affairs are all arranged for the voyage and we begin to feel 
at home. The Siddons is a good, comfortable ship, and her 
officers gentlemanly, attentive, and faithful. We have 
but four cabin passengers, eight or ten in the second cabin, 



16 SEA-SICKNESS. 

and as many in the steerage. Ample provision has been 
made to render our voyage as comfortable and pleasant as 
possible. 

May 2. — A stiff breeze from the south and increasing 
towards night. The sea rolls heavily, and our ship is 
tossed about like a very little thing. One passenger begins 
to complain of illness, looks pale about his lips, and leaves 
his place at the table vacant. The rest of us keep up good 
courage, but with a doubtful prospect ahead. 

May 6. — Well, it is over, thanks to the milder wind 
and calmer sea, and I am again on my legs, staring sullenly, 
and in a stifled rage, at the impertinence of the sea. Four 
days gone, I can hardly tell how. On the night of the 2d 
Neptune stretched forth his trident, and demanded of me 
a sacrifice, for daring to encroach upon his domain. I re- 
tired like a sorry penitent to my state-room, to do pe- 
nance for my temerity; prostrated myself, and poured out my 
libations freely upon the dread altar. I was horribly sick 
for thirty hours. Not until to-day have I felt myself freely 
and fully forgiven. One of our passengers still lingers at 
the confessional. 

May 7. — Another dark, drizzling day. What is duller 
than a dull day at sea ! — the wind lulled into a dead calm ; 
the heavens overcast with thick clouds, which rest down up- 
on the surface of the waters ; the dark swelling waves, mur- 
muring mournfully by. The ship rolls and pitches heavily, her 
timbers creaking at every joint, and the wet sails flap- 
ping lazily, with a most doleful sound. Oh, the tedium of 
the sea ! Its poetry is all gone. It has vanished like the 
" baseless fabric of a vision." The romance of the sea is all 
on shore. Seated on some safe, jutting cliff*, beneath the 
spreading branches of a tree, one may dream about the po- 
etry of the " deep blue sea," as its waves come surging to 
the shore and spend their fury in harmless dashing at his 
feet. But this eternal tossing, pitching, tumbling, and 
creaking, of " the house we live in," as if an earthquake 
were beneath us, and one dash more would rend it to 



GRANDEUR OF THE OCEAN. 17 

atoms, and send us to sleep on coral beds below ; the tramp 
and bawl of the sailors over head ; the dark, damp atmo- 
sphere ; the entire prostration of all mental vigor ; the utter 
inability to read, think, talk, or write ; nothing to amuse or 
comfort ; every expression of sympathy construed into a 
desire to mock one's sufferings ; all becomes too real, too 
discordant to admit any play of the imagination, to weave 
chaplets of poesy with which to wreathe the brow of old 
ocean. On such a day one gets out of patience with him- 
self and the world, and curses the folly and madness 
which ever induced him to exchange the security and 
comfort of home, the close communion of beloved friends, 
and the thousand sources of enjoyment, for the dulness and 
misery of a voyage across the sea. But he who would 
see the wonders of the Old World can not avoid the 
sacrifice. Happier is he who is content with the freshness 
and prosperity of the New. 

May 9. — Encouraging. By the captain's reckoning, 
we are half way across the Atlantic. The sea is calm, 
the sky is clear, the wind favorable, and we are careering 
on in fine style. What an influence the outer world has 
over the spirit of man ! How close and intricate, is the con- 
nexion of soul and body ; and how inwoven are the pow- 
ers which play upon each other ! Two days ago, all was 
regret, and gloom, and apprehension. To-day, everything 
is full of cheer, and hope, and happiness. Nothing but ne- 
cessity could force us backward from our purpose. The 
clouds are cleared away from the mental horizon, and 1 can 
look upon the sublimity and awful grandeur of this vast 
wilderness of waters wilh the profoundest admiration and 
delight. Around, above, beneath, are manifest the mighty 
works of him " who spreadeth out the heavens, and treadeth 
upon the waves of the sea," " who hath gathered the wind in his 
fists," and "stilleth the noise of the sea, the noise of the waves, 
and the tumult of the people." I can now realize, as I never 
could before, the force and beauty of the Psalmist's words, 
where he says : " They that go down to the sea in ships, 



18 MANAGING A SHIP. 

that do business upon the great waters ; they see the 
works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep, for he 
commandeth, and raiseth a stormy wind, and lifteth up tiie 
waves thereof. They mount up to heaven, they go down 
again to the depths ; their soul is melted, because of trou- 
ble; they reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and 
are at their wit's end. They cry unto the Lord in their trou- 
ble, and he bringeth them out of their distresses. He maketh 
the sea a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then 
are they glad because they be quiet ; so he bringeth them 
unto their desired haven. Oh, that men would praise the 
Lord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the 
children of men." 

I have been forcibly reminded of the great goodness of 
God, in giving to man the wonderful ability to construct 
and manage, with such consummate skill and precision, his 
floating home, in which he goes securely and comfortably 
across the trackless deep to any desired point of destina- 
tion. This result, like all other great achievments, has been 
gained by repeated experiment and perseverance. Step 
by step the art of navigation has progressed, till a degi'ee 
of speed and security has been attained which is truly as- 
tonishing. Could the present state of perfection to which 
marine travelling has been carried, be compared with what 
it was a few centuries ago, when huge barges went coast- 
ing from place to place, how wonderful would the contrast 
appear ! Who would say the world makes no progress ? 
that everything moves in a circle ? that the present is no 
wiser than former generations? 

May 10. — I have been watching, to-day, the working of 
the ship, noting the order and regularity which prevail in 
every department, admiring the skill and energy of the offi- 
cers, and the promptitude and cheerfulness of the sailors. 
There stands the captain, always at his post, in defiance of 
cold, or wet, or darkness, pacing to and fro on the wind- 
ward side of the quarter deck, till he has worn a track from 
the binnacle to near the main-mast. He eves each sail, to 



FAITHFULNESS OF SAILORS. 19 

keep it full ; marks the least increase or diminution of the 
wind, and gives commands to reef, or unfurl, or set more 
sail, to jibe, or luff, or wear about ; anxious to do every- 
thing to speed the passage, and give security to the persons 
and property committed to his charge. Then here are the 
under officers, equally faithful to their trust, and alike anx- 
ious for the safety and comfort of all on board. Then come 
the poor, neglected, and too often despised sailors, a rough 
and hardy set of fellows, but for whose fidelity, and, some- 
times dangerous daring, all would be unsafe and disastrous. 
The commands of the officers would be unavailing, the ship 
unmanageable, the winds our masters, the coral reefs our 
bed, but for their promptitude and courage in the discharge 
of their duties. The other night, when the gale carried 
away our main-top-gallant mast, all hands turned out, and 
were ready to mount the rattlings, to clamber out to 
the very ends of the yards, while the ship rolled and pitched 
fearfully, clinging among the shrouds, at the great risk of 
their lives, to furl the sails and repair the injury. No danger 
is so great as to deter them from doing what a superior 
officer commands. Suddenly awakened from the slumbers 
of night, they start to the post of duty without a murmur. 
Who will say no goodness dwells in the sailor's heart ; 
that all is dark, depraved, and vile ; that this rough cov- 
ering envelopes no nut, no germ of moral excellence, 
which retains the impress of its divine parentage, and needs 
but the aj)plication of truth and love to bring out the in- 
nate quality, arm it against all circumstances, and set it on 
its heavenward course ? Who can tell us how far bad 
influences — uncared for childhood, neglected youth, the 
crushing weight of poverty and ignorance, the indifference 
and abuse of employers, and the cold scorn and hard de- 
nunciation of the professedly good and pious, have tended 
to make them what they are, and immeasurably worse than 
they otherwise would have been ? And the treatment 
they receive at home and abroad is not much calculated to 
make them better. They are stowed away in the low, dark 



20 THEIR CONDITION NEGLECTED. 

forecastle, without seats, without lights, without dishes, save 
a tin plate and cu[5, and wooden noggin. They are fed upon 
the most miserable fare, served out in the meanest manner. 
Their physical comfort is altogether disregarded. They are 
treated with less attention to their comfort than a cartman's 
horse. There is little done for them by their rich, and some- 
times pious employers, to elevate their minds, to promote their 
welfare, and to make them think more seriously of their 
characters as men, and their responsibilities as the children 
of God. They feel that they are unloved, uncared for, and 
despised ; and, having lost their self-respect, through con- 
sciousness of guilt and the unforgiving spirit of the world, 
they find in themselves no heart to rise and retrieve the 
errors of the past, by a true reformation. They have no 
confidence in themselves nor in others, save in those of the 
same kith and kin, whose influence serves rather to depress 
than elevate them. They have no living faith in God or 
man, in truth or goodness. All, over, around, and before 
them, is dark, and dreary, and desolate. They see no beam 
of light, not a ray of hope, guiding through the murky 
present to a brighter and better future, arresting their 
attention, and offering to them attractions to aspire after 
the pure and holy, the beautiful and good. They never 
look aloft to the serene atmosphere of Divine Goodness, to 
see what demonstrations of love have been made in behalf 
of sinners by the gift of Jesus Christ ; or if they do, in 
their unbelief, they conclude that such condescension is not 
for them. The church has not made practical this sublime 
doctrine in a way to reach their case, through the cold neg- 
lect and proud contempt the world has heaped upon them. 
Their hearts remain untouched, their judgments unconvinced, 
their condition the same, or growing worse. And still there 
is a frankness, a generosity, a devotion to duty, a disinter- 
estedness, an intensity of feeling, when once the affections 
of the heart are touched, which no one can fail to admire 
and approve. I have sat for hours and chatted with them. 
Like slaves, and servants, and workers in large estab- 



INFLUENCE OF CtRCUMSTANCES. 21 

lishments, they feel' oppressed and constrained by a sense 
of their inferiority, and enter not freely and confidentially 
into conversation with others. Oh! the curse of the false 
distinctions of earth! How many souls have been made 
wretched by them! How many thousands are kept from 
the light of truth and blessings of salvation! What ruin, 
wjiat misery, what desolations have they wrought in all the 
earth! Jesus came to break down every barrier, to level 
every mountain and hill, fill up every valley, take out of 
the way every stumbling-block, and prepare a highway for 
the Lord, that all flesh might see the salvation of God, 

Oh, blessed Savior, how merciful, how condescending! 
the companion of the poor and miserable, and the friend 
of publicans and sinners ! Teach men thy knowledge and 
fear, that pride and arrogance may no longer dry up the 
charities of the human soul, and leave the millions for whose 
salvation thy blood was freely poured out, to die in igno- 
rance, and moral and social degradation! Then shall thy 
church arise and shake itself from the dust of earth, and, 
attired in its beautiful garments, go triumphantly forward 
in its work of love, bestowing its benedictions upon all 
grades of universal humanity. 

May 12. — 'What a wonderful influence weather has upon 
one's spirits! A clear, bright day, with a fair breeze, dis- 
pels all gloom, and makes one cheerful and happy. How 
much are most people affected by outward circumstances ! 
Some may be controlled wholly by them. Such are 
like seed sown on thin soil, "they have not root in 
themselves." Every man should attain to the possession 
of a degree of self-reliance which will raise him above all 
circumstances, and give him an independence and fortitude 
sufficient to signalize his individuality and show that his 
character is not a mere chameleon-hue, taking its tinge from 
whatever is reflected upon it. No matter if there are 
coarse, rugged features, observable to those accustomed to 
look only upon the flat surface of life's picture, to admire 
the minglings of light and shade in the arrangement of 



22 INDIVIDUALISM. 

forms and figures which stand out only in appearance. 
He who would sculpture the real statue of life must quarry 
out the solid block, and employ time and patience to chisel 
down its coarse features, and smoothe and polish their rough 
outlines, without marring the prominence of any part. 

This individualism is an important doctrine, especially 
when taken in connexion with the social relations and du- 
ties of life. Perhaps, in America, and particularly among 
those really independent in religious and political matters, 
there is too much of the former without a proper regard 
for the latter. Still, I can conceive of no social organiza- 
tion worthy of reasonable beings, where each member does 
not retain all that constitutes a freeman of God, a unit in 
creation, and does not bring himself, as he is, to make one 
in the mingled mass. If he is to sink the man, to lose the 
individual in the shade of another, nothing is really gained; 
but one is actually lost. The monarch says we, and assumes 
to speak for the realm. The Bishop says we, and dares to 
speak for God. All under him but i-eiterate his voice. As 
many as receive and swallow, like young birds, without 
mastication, whatever is given them, have no life in 
themselves, but are the tools of another, giving the reve- 
rence to man which is due to God only. The Synod, or 
Council, or Conventicle may do the same thing, seeking to 
swallow up all a man should claim for himself How in- 
sinuating and formidable is the love of power! How tame 
and servile is the soul that will submit to it willingly, except 
when exercised in trust for the general good, of the fact of 
which he reserves the right to judge for himself What a 
sublime spectacle is presented in our great Republic, where 
all men are sovereigns, acting in concert for the good of each ! 
And so with a true religion, where the only power wielded 
over free minds is the force of truth, the example of right- 
eousness, and the influence of love. 

These reflections were suggested to my mind by various 
conversations with our Catholic priest, upon the infallibility 
of his Church, its right to judge in all matters, and the duty 



INFALLIBILITY OF THE CHURCH. 23 

of all her priefts to be in perfect submission to her decisions 
and dictates, and of all her members to J)e in a true sub- 
mission to her priests. I need not here relate the train 
of argument by which he sought to sustain his ground. 
The bare definition of his position is enough to convince 
those who have been trained from their youth to cherish, as 
one of the most sacred, natural, and inalienable rights of 
all men, that freedom of thought on all subjects comes 
properly within the range of human inquiry. But it is sin- 
gular with what willingness these priests consent, with the 
most abject submission, to the authority of the Church; 
and with what pertinacity they exact a like submission 
from all beneath them. Some deny the infallibility of their 
Pope, and of every Cardinal and Bishop, individually, and 
even admit that they may be corrupt men, and still contend 
that, when acting in their associated capacity, as a Church, 
they are infallible, and always to be implicitly and blindly 
obeyed. 

Speaking of the infallibility of the Church, I see, in 
Brownson's last Quarterly, a summary of the entire argu- 
ment upon this subject, which I have extracted below. 
The writer is attempting to prove, in reply to another, that 
the "Apocraphy" is canonical, because so decreed by the 
Church. The Church having so decided, all Christians are 
bound to receive it as such until the validity of such de- 
cree is refuted, and this can not be done, because the Church 
is "infallible." 

" But to prove the fallibility of the Church, or to disprove her infallibility, is 
a grave undertaking, and attended with serious difficulties. The Church can 
not be tried except by some standard, and it is idle to attempt to convict her on 
a fallible authority. If the conviction is obtained on a fallible authority, the 
conviction itself is fallible, and it, instead of the Church, may be the party in 
the wrong. The Professor can not take a single step, can not even open his 
case, unless he has an infallible tribunal before which to summon the Church, 
— some infallible standard by which to test her infallibility or fallibility. But 
before what infallible tribunal can he cite her ? What mfallible authority has 
he on which to demand her conviction 1 

" The only possible way in wliich the fallibility of the Church can be proved, 
is by convicting her of havmg actually erred on some point on which she 



24 CONSERVATISM. 

claims to be infallible. But it is evident, that, in order to be able to convict 
her of having erred on a given point, we must be able to say infallibly what is 
truth or error on that point." 

What wonderful logic ! The Church assumes infallibility ; 
claims the right of trial by a "jury of her peers," that is 
by " iniallible " judges ; denies that there are any such in 
the realm, and, therefore, the Church is infallible! And 
yet, after all, this is the only argument of any consequence 
— it is the main argument, which the Romish Church offers 
to a reasonable world and an enlightened age, to sustain its 
claims to infallibility and the right to rule men's con- 
sciences in all matters of faith and practice. 

Another point we had und^r discussion, yesterday — the 
doctrine of " Transubstantiation." Our friend asserted, 
positively, that the bread and wine became the actual flesh 
and blood of Christ in the communion, by consecration. 
I proposed to test the fact by a chemical analysis of the ma- 
terials, after such consecration. He denied the right to do 
so, and argued that, as Christ had power to turn water into 
wine, so he could give power to his Church to turn bread 
into flesh, and wine into blood. I did not deny his power 
to do so, but questioned the fact, and the test I proposed 
would settle the question whether such special approval of 
of God had been given to his Church. He. thought me 
most wickedly absurd and heretical, and did not modify his 
opinion in my favor when I inquired what the effect would 
be if rats and mice should pick up some of the crumbs of the 
consecrated wafer. 

Such discussions are not very edifying, but they will do 
very well to help while away the tedium of a sea voyage. 
I confess myself enlightened on several points of Roman 
theology which I had thought were repudiated. But it 
seems no progress has been made, no onward movement 
given to the doctrines or usages of that venerable institu- 
tion. What has been with them must always be ; no ad- 
vancement is possible. The past is the earnest and the ac- 
tual of the future. Every voice calls backward, and threat- 



SUNDAY REFLECTIONS-. 25 

ens calamities for the differing. They reject "Excelsior'* 
from their vocabulary, and fold their arms in stoic indiffer- 
ence. One object only animates them — Proselytism — to 
bring forward the Past, to bow before the Ancient, and prop 
the crumbling walls, which totter to their very base. 

For one thing I like our Protestant faith, if for nothing 
else — its freshness, its vigor, its boldness, its liberality. It 
bids us look up and forward, to forget what is behind and 
press on to that which is before, undismayed in a cause 
which is to be crowned with success and with the approval 
of God. It denies us no truth ; it forbids no good ; it gives 
freely to all; upbraids none, but bids all and each "go for- 
ward," fear not, for God is with you always, even to the 
end of time. 

May 14. — It is Sundaj^ : a calm and quiet day, with a 
fair, soft breeze. The sea is tranquil, disturbed only by our 
ship, which leaves a faint ripple behind, but which is all 
vanished ere we are out of sight of it. What an emblem 
of the good man's life ! He lives, and loves, and blesses. 
His years flow smoothly on. He dies. But his memory 
lives after him, till the generation that knew him passes 
away and then he is not forgotten. Not so with the selfish 
and vile. Their memory, like our ship's track in a storm, 
is soon obliterated, or exhibits only the scattered fragments 
of a wasted life. 

Our passengers are so few that no public religious ser- 
vice has been proposed. But God is worshipped accepta- 
bly by the heart that kindles with devotion at the mighti- 
ness of his power, the grandeur of his works, and the suffi- 
ciency of his grace. He asks the sacrifice of the heart, 
and accepts it without a lip-service. The forms of wor- 
ship are of little worth, unless they become suggestive, 
waking up religious emotions, and giving utterance and di- 
rection to genuine feelings of reverence and devotion. 
Who can be witness to what we have seen — the " wonders 
of the Lord in the great deep," and feel no sentiment of 

3 



26 TALKING BUNTING. 

thankfulness, no desire to honor and obey, to praise and 
adore the merciful Benefactor, who has preserved us in all 
our lives, supplied all our w^ants, comforted our hearts in 
sorrow, and given us the promise of a glorious and happy 
immortality ? 

May 15. — Eleven ships in sight at one time, this morn- 
ing. Scarcely a day has passed, that we have not fallen in 
with one or more. Sometimes they come near to us, at 
others are so far off that only the topsails can be seen, ap- 
pearing no larger than little boats. One day, when about 
half across the ocean, we spoke a brig, which had been 
thirty-six days at sea, bound from London to Quebec. She 
had no tidings to communicate, no request to make, but 
feeling lonely and discouraged at such poor progi'ess, de- 
sired a little relief from the monotony of the sea by a 
trumpet-talk with us. At another time, the second mate 
came into the cabin while we are at dinner, saying " a ship 
is off our beam, talking bunting to us." " Answer him," 
said the captain, and all the passengers ran on deck to see 
the process. Small signals of different colors are set in the 
shrouds, and exchanged which, like old-fashioned tele- 
graphs, have a certain meaning affixed to them, by which 
enough can be communicated to tell the name, nation, lati- 
tude and longitude, time out, port of destination, and so 
forth. Sailors generally have a great dislike to all attempts 
at sociability, between ships on the sea, and avoid them 
when possible. 

But such interruptions serve to break the monotony of a 
voyage, and afford subject of conversation for an hour. 
One on land would be surprised, perhaps would laugh, to 
see what interest is awakened at the sight of a ship, a lost 
spar, a stick of wood, or any object floating on the surface 
of the sea — a whale, a shoal of porpoises, a shark, a lonely 
gull, a Mother Carey's chicken — any thmg to divert the at- 
tention, from gazing at the broad heavens above, bounded 
by the blue sea beneath. The fact is, man is not all 
selfish ; he can not contract himself, like a tortoise, into hivS 



RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 27 

own shell, and be content. There is in him something, 
noble, liberal, expansive, which, like the tendril of a vine, 
feels about for a support by which to rise, or more matured, 
to give support to others. He treads upon an outer world 
and feels how dependent he is, how intimately, and in- 
separably his happiness and very being are blended with ob- 
jects which a merciful Creator has placed about him. 
What a strange and unnatural whim it was which pos- 
sessed the minds of men, claiming the highest degree of 
sanctity, to expatriate themselves, and hide away in a 
desert place from the good, and grand, and beautiful works 
of God ! 

The condition of our cabin has been again rendered 
somewhat uncomfortable by the impertinence and dictato- 
rial overbearing of one of our passengers, who is in every- 
thing, but his religious opinions, a very kind, companion- 
able and excellent man, one whom we much esteem. A 
foreigner by birth and education, he has not learned to ap- 
preciate aright the independence of American character, 
and the principles of religious toleration, free inquiry, and 
equal rights. Unfortunately, there are too many, even 
among protestants, not unlike him, who sink the gentleman 
and Christian in the sectarist, and forget the commonest 
civilities of life. He has been trained to obey with- 
out a murmur, submit without an inquiry, to what- 
ever his superiors demand of him ; and, in turn, he 
has been accustomed to receive the same unquestioning 
submission from those he thinks his inferiors, which, of 
course, are all those who do not sustain the same rank in 
the true church as himself. Some of us were willing to 
admit his right to supremacy in matters of opinion, and so, 
after exercising a full share of long suffering, " we stood 
fast in the liberty whei'ewith Christ hath made us free," 
and manfully defended our own views. Like most religious 
discussions, the consequences were, at first, unpleasant ; 
but, exercising the virtue of Christian charity and modera- 



28 MARITIME SKILL. 

tion, our friendship was not marred, but our mutual respect, 
on the whole, greatly strengthened. 

The mischief, of which the world complains, has not re- 
sulted necessarily from religious controversies on points of 
theology where there is an honest disagreement ; but either 
from an overbearing or dictatorial manner, which demands 
assent, without producing conviction ; adhering with a su- 
perstitious and wicked pertinacity to old opinions, for 
which no sufficient reason is given, merely because they 
are venerable for age, and are our own, or else, from the un- 
kind and unchristian spirit, in which they are carried on — ex- 
hibiting any thing but a christian temper or regard for truth. 

He who is unable to control his own passions, unwilling 
to be convinced of the truth, or too proud and stubborn 
to confess his errors when pointed out to him, should 
never trust himself to er ter the arena of religious debate, 
lest he injure himself and profit no other. The end of the 
commandment is love out of a pure heart and a good con- 
science, and faith unfeigned." That should all men strive 
to obey. 

May 16. — Good courage! We are promised, this morn- 
ing, that we shall see land before night. Pleasant sight ! — 
though it shall be to us the land of strangers ! It is a 
wonderful achievement of human skill, that enables the 
mariner to note his exact position at sea. How fixed and 
benevolent are the laws of God in all their adaptation ! 
The sun, and stars, and earth, move on with the utmost 
precision. They form the basis of his calculation. The 
needle gravitateb steadily towards a fixed point, and the 
compass directs him in his course. The quadrant marks 
the altitude of the sun, and guides his reckoning. When 
there is apparent imperfection in the variation of the needle, 
which philosophy has not explained, the amount is under- 
stood, and security is not endangered. What a blessed thing 
it would be, if all men would study moral navigation, and 
learn how to steer their frail barks securely over the ocean 



SUBMISSION UNDER DISAPPOINTMENTS. 29 

of life to the port of everlasting peace. The laws of God 
are equally plain and invariable in their adaptation to all the 
conditions and circumstances of life. Man has only to 
obey them, as they apply to his whole being, in order to se- 
cure the end contemplated by the Infinite Benevolence of 
God in their bestowment. Sin is a transgression of the 
law, and punishment a penalty inflicted to produce refor- 
mation. Let him who would be happy, be true to himself, 
and obedient to the will of his Father in heaven. 

The wind has lulled into a calm, and our eyes must sleep 
another night without the sight of land. Disappointments 
are necessary to try the strength of a man's faith. Always 
prosperous, he would be like a hot-house plant, unfitted for 
the real world. He who can not be patient under denial is 
ignorant of the sources of enjoyment. No man has a right 
to inquire why God made the world as he did, or governs 
it as he does. It is the part of true wisdom to find what 
his will is : submission is then his duty. His happiness de- 
pends upon doing it. There is, sometimes, as much virtue 
in endeavor as in performance. Both are essential to a 
true life. 



CHAPTER II. 

Sight of Land. — Hailed by some Irishmen. — Leave the Ship. — An Irish 
Hooker. — A Dinner. — Approaching the Land. — Appearance of the Coast. 
— Landing. — A Stroll. — Taking Tea. — Kinsale. — Servants. — Beset by Beg- 
gars. — An Irish Coach. — Ride to Cork. — A grand Prospect. 

THE LANDING. 

May 17. — Rose at daylight, and on going on deck was 
greeted with the pleasing intelligence that a light-house had 
been in sight several hours. I took the glass, and traced 
the rough shore of Ireland, from Cape Clear eastward, dis- 

3* 



30 PREPARATIONS FOR LANDING. 

tant some twenty miles. "A change came o'er the spirit 
of my dream." I breathed more freely. My blood coursed 
more rapidly. All was joy and gladness. I roused up our 
fellow-passengers, that they might enjoy the pleasure also. 
How much is one's happiness enhanced by making others 
happy ! And it sometimes costs little to make them so. 

Assured by the captain, at the breakfast table, that we 
should probably fall in with a fishing boat before noon, 
which would come along-side to sell fish, we could have an 
opportunity to carry out our previous plan, and land on the 
south coast of Ireland, thus avoiding the delay frequently 
experienced at this season of the year in sailing to Liver- 
pool. We hastened to make the necessary preparation — 
packed our sacks with what we should need for a few 
weeks, arranged about the deposit of our trunks, wrote up 
our notes, and waited the arrival of a boat. Before noon, 
several were in sight, making for our course. We were 
under gentle sail, with all our canvas set. At 12, one 
hailed us and came along-side — a miserable, dirty-looking 
affair, manned by a ragged, piratical-looking set of fellows 
as were ever looked on. The captain doubted if we should 
get a better, so we authorized him to contract for our 
conveyance to the Cove of Cork, on the most favorable 
terms he could. 

" Where are you from ?" asked the captain. 

" Sure, an' ar'nt we from Cork ? Would yer honor be 
afther buyin' soome fish ?" 

" Well, take a line." 

The sailors threw one, which they all scrambled after, 
and finally succeeded in making it fast to the mast of their 
craft. 

" Will you take some passengers on shore, at the Cove 
of Cork?" 

" Sure, an' it's the same thing we'd like to be afther do- 
ing," answered all at once. 

" For what price will you land them there ?" 



LEAVING THE SHIP. 31 

"How mooney might there be ?" asked two or three. 

" Four, with small sacks." 

" Two poounds a-piece, then ;" answered two voices. 

" They will not give it. It is a great deal too much. So 
let go the line." 

"An' hoow much would the ginthilmin bay afther giving?" 
demanded one. 

" Two pounds for all four, if you land them at the Cove." 

" Sure, an' we'll do that same thing to plase the ginthil- 
min." ejaculated all at once. 

" Haul in, there, and let them come close along-side." 

They veered about in the most awkward manner, as if 
afraid our ship would roll over them, all acting as com- 
manders, one ordering this and an other that, until the pa- 
tience of our captain was well nigh exhausted. They 
finally succeeded in bringing their boat within jumping 
distance, and we all leaped from the main-chains, at con- 
siderable risk of our lives and limbs, into the wildest, cra- 
ziest looking craft that ever floated on the sea, the Chinese 
junk not excepted. Our bags, coats, and luncheon fol- 
lowed. In a moment the hawser was cast off; we waved 
adieu to our excellent and gentlemanly commander, and to 
all on board — towards whom we had come to feel a warm 
attachment, and soon found ourselves floating far astern 
the Siddons, twenty miles from shore, and in a little, black, 
dirty fishing boat — called a " Hooker," managed by five 
men and two boys, all looking, if possible, worse than the 
boat itself. We took courage when we learned that the 
name of the hooker was the " Teetotaller," and had an old 
man on board called " Admiral," who showed us a temper- 
ance medal which had been given him by Father Mathew. 
Likeness of principles soon inspires friendship, and sobriety 
begets confidence. We soon contrived to get up a conver- 
sation on various topics connected with the business of fish- 
ing, by which we became acquainted with the hard fate of 
these poor fellows. They spend weeks on the sea, amid 



32 AN IRISH HOOKER. 

cold and storms, toiling at great peril for a most wretched 
and precarious subsistence. We inquired of them about 
the state of affairs in Europe, which were so threatening 
when we left home ; especially in England and their own 
country. But they were ignorant of every thing discon- 
nected with their business; none of them being able to read 
or write. Their home and government was in this little 
vessel, which they managed upon shares — the owner fitting 
it out with sails, rigging, and tackle, for one half the profits. 
Their income atfords a scanty support. Sometimes they 
go out thirty and forty leagues, and are absent a week or 
two, without any success. At other times, they return in 
a few days with a full cargo. 

My readers will pardon me for the description of an Irish 
" hooker," when they remember that many thousand human 
beings live in them. It is some thirty feet long, nine feet 
beam, drawing seven feet, loaded. Ours had a rough 
board deck, five feet below the gunwale ; the midships 
filled with a large pile of netting and buoys, or floats, made 
of calf-skins, sewed tight, as if whole, and filled with air, 
lookmg like hideous monsters from the deep. It was sloop- 
rigged, — some are schooners, — with a high pointed main- 
sail, the peak of which ran up far above the mast, a jib and 
flying-jib, all besmeared with grease and tar, to preserve 
them from the influence of the weather. Forward of the 
mast was the cabin which was entered by getting down 
two or three feet into a transverse opening two feet wide, 
in v^'hich stood a common iron pot, filled with burning turf 
Then, by doubling down as best we could, shutting our 
eyes meanwhile, to keep out the smoke, we thrust our 
heads through a small aperture eighteen inches wide and 
fifteen high, and dragged our bodies into the "' gentleman's 
cabin." The carpet was loose oat straw, about eight 
inches thick, which served, at the same time, for chairs 
and beds. From the straw to the roof was just two feet, 
by measure. The breadth of the cabin was the width of 



A PRIMITIVE DINNER. 33 

the hooker, and, fore and aft, the length of a man. Vari- 
ous articles were stowed into the forward end. Into this 
Calcutta black-hole we crawled, during a violent shower 
which came on, and remained till we were well nigh suffo- 
cated with the smoke from the pot of turf, which came in 
by the " companion way," or main side hatch. There was 
no opening for it to escape. The helmsman had a small 
box-compass set loose on the deck, by which he steered. 
The commands were mutually given, in a broad dialect we 
could not understand. We felt that we were among stran- 
gers and approaching a foreign land. 

The dinner hour arrived, and it was proposed to cook us 
some fresh mackerel. We assented, but wondered how it 
was to be done. Half a dozen were prepared, put in a pot, 
and set upon the other filled with turf. By dint of hard 
blowing, the pot was made to boil, though closely watched. 
For a table a rough board was placed on a pile of fish-nets, 
so as to keep a steady position, on which we spread a 
newspaper for a cloth. On this the fish were placed and 
"dinner was ready." No knife, no fork, no plate. These 
are needless things for ultra-utilitarians. Fingers before 
forks ; boards before tables. They are more primitive, 
more natural. We asked for salt, and a man brought some in 
his hands and poured it on the table. S-alt-cellars are need- 
less expenditures. It was of a quality between table and 
Turk's Island, a sort of " coarse fine." We ate as best we 
could, and gave portions of the liberal allowance furnished 
us by the generous steward of the Siddons, of which the 
poor, half-starved fellows partook with a hearty good relish, 
mixing in many expressions of thankfulness. Such was our 
first meal among foreigners. 

The wind freshened into a stiff breeze, the waves rolled 
high, sometimes dashing the spray all over us, and our 
little craft was tossed about most fearfully. We sheltered 
ourselves as best we could and submitted to our fate. The 
novelty of our position filled us with indescribable emotions. 



34 NAKED SHORES. 

The approach to the shores of the Old World is full of 
novelty and excitement. Reality begins to supplant imagi- 
nation, and scenes are developed at once strange and pleas- 
ing, in almost every respect dissimilar to those with which 
one has been familiar in his own country. Not least among 
the sources of happiness in that hour, was the thought that 
the treacherous sea had been crossed, and we were soon to 
set foot on the solid ground. Tnis thought would have 
filled us with joy, had we not been compelled to turn a 
surly look, half contemptuous, half imploring, at the old 
ocean ; as much as to say, Though I despise thee, 1 will not 
vent my detestation, lest I wake thy wrath, to be remem- 
bered when I recross thy trackless and turbulent waves, to 
my country and my home. I have crossed thy domain. 
Let us be at peace. Spite retained for injuries past, de- 
stroys the peace of him who cherishes it. 

As we drew nearer, the long line of undulating coast ap- 
peared more and more distinct. The " Old Head of Kin- 
sale," jutting several miles into the sea, and rising to the 
height of two hundred and fifty feet, crowned with a large 
white light-house and the crumbling walls of an old castle, 
like the out-sentinel of another world, stood upon our left, 
and protected the little bay we were entering from the 
strong winds we had encountered. On our right, arose 
rocky and precipitous cliffs, which stretched eastward out of 
sight, and whose base is for ever lashed by the surging waves 
of the broad Atlantic. Before us the land rose by gentle 
acclivities, covered all over with little fields of various 
shapes and colors. The fresh-plowed ground looked black 
from the rain just fallen. In some the new-sprung grain 
looked green and soft. The close-fed pastures were of a 
lighter hue, in which sheep, and goats, and cattle were graz- 
ing. The bright yellow furz, in full blossom, scattered about 
the borders of the fields, or in large patches, here and there, 
added greatly to the novelty and beauty of the scenery. 
Then, the asses and mules, heavily laden, winding up the 
steep sides of the hills, driven by barefoot boys or girls ; the 



ENTERING THE HARBOR. 35 

peculiar dress of the men and women working in the fields : 
the singular appearance of the low mud hovels ; the entire 
absence of forests, or copses of wood, with scarce a tree or 
shrub in view ; the queer construction of the water craft 
we met or passed ; the hoarse, broad dialect heard from the 
boats and the shore ; every thing was strange and curious, 
wholly unlike any portion of our own country, or aught I 
had seen or imagined before. 

By a single tack we entered, through a narrow passage, 
into the calm and beautiful harbor, completely surrounded 
by rising grounds, with a large fort in front, whose " war- 
dogs," mounted on lofty battlements, frowned gruffly at our 
entrance, lik^ a maddened bull, ready for attack. One 
can hardly imagine the feelings of enthusiasm we felt on 
finding ourselves secure from the rocking sea, and approach- 
ing a large town, pleasantly situated around the Cove up 
which we were sailing. We wound round the low point 
on which stand the ruins of an old fort, and came directly 
up to the town. We were hailed in rough, hoarse lan- 
guage, by a set of ragged and filthy fisherwomen, who paddled 
their dirty boats out to meet us and buy our fish, if we had 
any. But the only produce of this voyage was three live 
Yankees and a French priest — poor property in an Irish 
market. Several boats had arrived just before us, on board 
of which were several women, wrangling, and swearing, 
and scolding, in words so loud that they echoed back from 
the town in no very agreeable accents, as they broke the 
stillness of that quiet and beautiful scene. 

The joy we felt on leaping from the boat to the steps of 
the "Royal George Hotel," where we lodge, was un- 
bounded. It surpassed description. The declining sun, 
which had been obscured since noon, burst through its 
cloudy veil, and shone brightly and beautifully upon the 
green hills and that part of the town not shaded by the ris- 
ing ground in the rear. The birds sang merrily, and the 
sweet aroma of the flowers perfumed the mild zephyrs of 
evening. The scene was, to us, enchanting. We could 



36 EXTRA PAY DEMANDED. 

not restrain our delight. We ran, and frolicked, and chat- 
tered like children just out of school. This saved us from 
the appearance of awkwardness w^e should otherwise have 
exhibited, from the uncontrollable movements of our loco- 
motive machinery, which had got somewhat deranged by 
our toppling motions on ship-board. We managed to get 
into the " Royal George," whither our boatmen followed 
us, demanding some extra pay for drink-money. We re- 
fused ; first, because we did not understand that after pay- 
ing, according to contract, £2, any further claim could be 
rightfully made against us ; second, because they agreed 
to carry us to Cork, but had brought us to Kinsale, not 
half the distance. This we overlooked, so glad were we 
to get on shore, any where ; third, because we could not 
see what " drink-money" had to do with a temperance 
crew of the " Teetotaller." But we could not reason the 
matter. They said it was the custom to do so ; and gave 
us any thing but their blessing when we plead ignorance of 
all such laws, civil, social, or martial. 

After warming and drying ourselves by a good fire, we 
issued out to make our first acquaintance with an Irish 
town. We wandered about through several streets, and 
ascended an eminence on the north, where we saw whole 
streets of low cottages, with roofs fallen in, and nothing 
but the naked stone walls remaining. The remark of one 
was, " They must have hud a great fire here." A few 
turns more and we came to other streets in the same deso- 
late condition, when the same remark was repeated by 
another, forgetting we were in the Old World, where 
ruins were to be looked for — in Ireland, where poor ten- 
ants are robbed of their dwellings by their merciless land- 
lords. Passing the Catholic Church, we saw our clerical 
friend going in with his missal in his hand. 

Fatigued with a short walk, we returned and ordered 
tea. This opened to us an entire new scene in the cus- 
toms of social life, and the art of hotel keeping. It was 
served on this wise. The table was set without a cloth. 



TAKING TEA. 37 

furnished with a plate and knife, a cup and saucer for each. 
A square loaf of bread was placed in the center, with a 
dozen small pieces of butter, the size of hickory nuts, on a 
plate beside it. A sugar bowl, milk pitcher, and tea-pot, 
and a small square box beside, completed the table furni- 
ture. A tea-kettle was set by the side of the grate, when 
the waiter said, " Tay is ready, sir." We sat down, and 
looked inquiringly at each other One essayed to pour out 
the tea, when lo ! the pot was found to be empty. We 
explored the interior and found no tea. We stared at each 
other, and burst into a hearty laugh. The waiter had left 
the room. The bell was rung, and he returned. We in- 
formed him of his mistake. " Och," said he, " here is the 
tay," opening the little ornamented box, which contained 
two apartments, one filled with black, and the other with 
green tea. " An' ye'U plase put in the tay, an' I'll be af- 
ther poouring the wather upon it." We did so, and the pot 
was filled with water from the kettle and sat upon the 
table. In a little time it was duly steeped, and we pro- 
ceeded to partake of a meal served in a manner quite 
novel to us. 

After tea, we arranged for our departure to Cork on the 
following morning. A large crowd of men, women, and 
children, most of them young, ragged, and dirty, were 
gathered in the street to hear the stories and witness the 
feats of a stripling harlequin, who attempted some very 
foolish and unattractive exploits, a woman, meanwhile, go- 
ing round for such contributions as she could raise, to en- 
courage the renegade to go on with his nonsense. The 
" ha'-pennies " came in as sparingly as they do to the mu- 
sic grinders in our own country. 



K I N S A L E. 

May 18. — We retired early last night, with hearts full 

of gratitude to Almighty God for having preserved our 

lives, and given us a safe and pleasant voyage across the 

4 



38 A SLEEPLESS NIGHT. 

Atlantic. We had fond hopes of a quiet night, and sound 
and refreshing sleep, but were doomed to disappointment. 
The transition we had passed, the strange scenes we had 
witnessed, the influence of the tay, or something else, so 
disquieted my nerves that I could not sleep at all. Oh, the 
horrors of a sleepless night ! How miserable, how per- 
fectly wretched ! I wished myself at home, on board the 
ship, snugly cradled in my birth, to be rocked to sleep by 
the rolling waves, — any where, but to be rolling and tumb- 
ling in a fever of sleepless excitement. How forcible were 
the words of poor Sancho Panza, " Blessings on the head 
of him who first invented sleep." I never rejoiced as I did 
this morning, to see the dawn of day, to be able to forsake 
my couch of sleepless misery, and go forth and find relief 
in the world of realities. 

I roused my companions and started for a more gene- 
ral inspection of the town. We passed through all the 
principal streets and ascended the lofty 'eminence called 
" Compass Hill," which overlooks the bay and a large tract 
of the surrounding country and commands a fine prospect 
of the town, several villas, the forts, harbors, " Old Head," 
and the sea. The sun arose in sweetest beauty and ascended 
a cloudless sky. The birds sang sweetly, and twittered from 
spray to spray in the gardens and orchards. The fields were 
decked in their richest robes. Several small boats laden 
with various articles for the market were coming down 
the Bandon river which forms a frith in the rear of the 
town. The hum of busy feet and voices in the town, the 
rolling beat of the i*eveille in the capacious barracks op- 
posite, the marshaling of the red-coat soldiery, every thing 
w^ore the charm of novelty. 

We strolled about visiting the spacious grounds and 
splendid garden of some nobleman whose name we have 
forgotten, squinting at the extensive military preparations 
and looking at the lean market and leaner inhabitants — 
wretched, squalid, and filthy — assembled about it. Here 
were women with early vegetables, milk, bread, butter, fish, 



THE TOWN. 39 

or something else to sell ; then a long row of men with 
spades waiting for some man to hire them. There went 
an ass loaded with two monstrous panniers suspended 
across its back and reaching nearly to the ground, con- 
taining milk, potatoes, turf, or some other marketable stuff; - 
everything looked odd, awkward, strange and miserable. 

The town itself is dilapidated, being of little importance 
compared with its former rank. It bears the mark of age, 
and must have been at one time a place of great business. 
We are told it was once the depot of all outward bound 
fleets, having a safe and commodious harbor for ships of 
all sizes ; that it was so much more noted than Cork, that 
letters were directed to "Cork, near Kinsale." The Spa- 
niards at one time had possession of the town. Prince 
Rupert took shelter here during the protectorate of Crom- 
well, at which time, and in the reign of James II, it was 
the scene of several bloody engagements. It su ffered so se- 
verely, that it has never recovered its former importance. 
A strong fort commands the harbor. There are several 
venerable churches ; that of St. Multaria was built in the 
14th century. The Cathohc chapel and Carmelite priory, 
the workhouse, the barracks, and the jail are prominent 
objects of attraction. The houses, generally, look dingy. 
Nothing about the place indicates thrift or comfort, except 
a few private dwellings. 

After a breakfast, like our tea of the preceding night, 
with the addition of two boiled eggs a piece, we paid our 
bill and arranged to leave. Each took his small sack and 
started for the coach office. We were followed by a boy, 
who demanded pay for himself, the chambermaid and 
the waiter. The justice of this claim we did not under- 
stand. We had paid our bill — for tea, Is 6d; for lodging. 
2s 6d ; for breakfast 2s, ($1 37 ;) and Mr. Boots and Miss 
Chambermaid we had not seen. We carried in our own 
baggage and brought it away. What else was wanted ? 

" Sure, an we get nothin but our chances ; an the gintil- 
min will not lave us without somethin." 



40 THE MAIL COACH. 

" Your chances ! what are they ? We take our chances 
in our country and work our way as best we can. We paid 
our bill, for all that we had, and all that was demanded, 
now what do you want more?" 

" Jist what yer honors plase — a shillun to the sarvant, a 
shillun to the chambermaid, and sixpence to the boots." 

" Why, that will make half a crown for each ; half a sov- 
reign in all." 

"Ay, jist that same thing it will be, sure, and we'll 
pray God to prosper yer journey." 

" There, take that, and go to grass, and take your chan- 
ces with Nebuchadnezzar. We will give you no more. 
This is not the way to do business any how. We pay 
for what we have, but do not beg for charities, nor give 
gratuities on demand." 

By this time we had arrived at the coach office, and 
poor boots, made himself, very busy, in detailing his un- 
lucky chances with these Americans. The coach stood 
before the door, and several passengers were already tak- 
ing their seats, although the horses were not yet hitched to 
it. As we had engaged outside seats, for the purpose of 
seeing, we were anxious to secure good ones, so we mount- 
ed a tier behind the driver's box, which was wide enough 
forour party of four. Behind the coach, over the baggage box, 
is another seat, and another still, facing backwards, so that 
eight passengers can ride there ; then two with the driver, 
making, in all, fourteen outside, while only six can ride inside. 
The outside seats are much the pleasantest in good weather, 
or when it is dusty. They are, generally, all occupied, 
when, perhaps, there will not be a passenger inside. Even 
some who pay for inside seats, which are at about one-third 
higher price, often ride outside, when the weather is fine. 

While waiting for the horses and mails, we noticed seve- 
ral sleek-looking young men, dressed in blue clothes, with 
standing collars to their coats, on which were figures in sil- 
ver with polished leather tops to their hats. We could not 
make out their business ; they eyed us very closely, and at 



A SCENE OF MISERY, 41 

one time we supposed them to be custom-house officers, 
looking after our baggage ; for nobody had asked us about 
it. We afterwards learned that they were policemen and 
were taking particular notice of us, so as to be able to de- 
scribe us, if ever inquired of In these rebellious times, 
Americans are looked upon with some suspicion, as well as 
all who sympathise with the people. 

But another scene soon occurred, illustrative of Ireland's 
degradation. An old woman, went among the passengers 
about the door of the office begging. I was the only one 
at the time on the coach, the others had left to escape a 
slight shower. She came to me, and reached up her lean, 
shrivelled hand, with a "Plase yer honor, and will ye give the 
poor woman a ha-'penny, and God bless ye for it ?" Her 
dress had been patched with as many colors as Joseph's 
coat, and was all tattered and torn at that. Some old 
clogs, like shoes, were on her feet, and a ragged shawl was 
thrown over her head. Her ankles, arms, and neck were 
naked, and she might well say, with the prophet, " My lean- 
ness, my leanness ;" or with Job, " Thou hast filled me with 
wrinkles, and my leanness beareth witness to my face." 
I had no heart to send her away empty. So I took a bag 
of ginger-cakes I had provided against sea-sickness, (which 
danger being over, I could well spare,) and gave her a hand- 
ful. In less than a minute, more than twenty gathered 
around the coach, each striving to get nearest, all reaching 
up their lean hands, and saying, " May God bless ye, sir ;" 
" May God Almighty return ye safe to yer home and yer 
blissid coounthry ;" " May God reward ye in heaven ;" 
" May the Hooly Virgin protict ye ;" " Och, sir, ye'U geve 
me some, for Jesus' sake, for my poor, famishing childers ;" 
" Plase give me some, sir," said a little, ragged boy, who 
had climbed up the wheel, " and I'll carry them to my poor, 
sick mother." 

A young woman crowded up, with a child in her arms. 
Both looked as if half-starved. I reached her a hand full, 
and as she took them and looked up to express her thanks, 

4* 



42 WRETCHEDNESS. 

I saw big tears trembling in her eyes, and she turned away 
without speaking. Not so with all, for many besought me 
the second time, and the old woman who came first put in 
her request the tJiird time, with the most solemn protesta- 
tions that she " had not a single bish-cake at all, at all." 
Some others hid theirs away in their bosoms, and then said 
they had not received one, and plead, in God's name, for a 
single cake. I could not appease them till the last cake 
was gone and the bag turned inside out. They then with- 
drew, with many appeals to God for blessings on the " kind 
gintilmin," and stood about the buildings, some showing 
their cakes to the hosts who continued to collect, begging 
for a taste. I saw the little boy who asked some for his 
mother, steal out of the crowd and run away, while several 
others chased after, trying to rob him. 

It was not curiosity that brought these poor creatures 
about me. They were actually hungry. Their hollow 
looks betokened the emptiness of their bellies. A gentle- 
man assured us that probably one-third of the people 
about Kinsale did not get a full meal, even of the coarsest 
food, one day in seven, and many families went whole days 
with nothing. And when I remembered that this was not 
far from Skibbereen, where the famine of winter before last 
did its deadliest work, I could not discredit him. The very 
looks of the people satisfied me that he told the truth. 
What a shame that such multitudes should live in such 
wretchedness and ignorance under the government of the 
IMistress of the world ! And the evil seemed greater when 
I saw large tracts of fine land uncultivated, — kept for pas- 
turing, and the hunting and pleasure grounds of noblemen! 
The land is fertile, but husbanded in the worst manner. 
The rents and taxes are so enormous that the tenants can 
not, with their awkward manner and limited means, make it 
pay them half a living for their labor. So the people clus- 
ter about the towns, to labor what they can for hire, and 
beg for the rest. The scene of this morning was such as I 
never witnessed before. I never saw humanity so de- 



RIDE TO CORK. 43^ 

graded, not even among the slaves of our Southern Slates. 
I wonder there is no more interest felt in the welfare and 
improvement of this people It would seem the interest of 
the owners of these estates, the honor and prosperity of 
the nation, would produce a better state of things, to say- 
nothing about the demands of Christian philanthropy. But 
I shall, doubtless, be wiser on these subjects when I have 
seen more of the actual state of this country. 

At length all was ready ; the driver on his box, and the 
guard, a burly old fellow, with a bright-red coat trimmed 
with black, mounted the hind seat, with several little mail 
bags in his hand, and gave command ; when off we started 
at a smart trot, which was continued, up hill and down, 
till we reached the half-way house, where the horses were 
changed in less than three minutes, and we were again 
on our way. The road is excellent, being well graded and 
thoroughly macadamized. The stages being short, not over 
eight or nine miles, the horses are driven that distance in 
an hour, so that we reached Cork, nineteen miles, in two 
hours. A supply of hands are in waiting at the relay sta- 
tions, who change the teams without calling the driver 
from his seat. He simply throws down his reins and sits 
at his ease, till others are handed him. He has nothing to 
do with horses, but to drive them. 

The prospect from the hill we passed, in ascending from 
the cove in which Kinsale is situated, is extensive, varied, 
and beautiful. The bay, the harbor, the town and its envi- 
rons, a vast region of undulating country, with its green 
and gently sloping hills, and rich and verdant vallies, 
bounded by a distant range of mountains on the north, and 
the broad ocean jutting into the land here and tl;ere, on the 
south, present a landscape as grand and pleasing as I ever saw. 
But the beauty of it is sadly marred, and the glory of it van- 
ishes when the eye falls upon the low mud hovels, waste 
fields, and squalid population, close at hand. Mingled feel- 
ings of admiration and regret, of thankfulness and pity, were 



44 THE CITY. 

awakened in my breast, and I could smile at the beautiful 
works of God, and weep for the misery of man. 

For some distance we traced the Une of the great south- 
western railroad, which is under contract, to extend from 
Dublin by Cork and Bandon, and thence to Bantry Bay. 
It is completed nearly half the way — to Clonmel — and par- 
tially graded the remainder. The political troubles in this 
country, and the scarcity of money, have caused a tempo- 
rary suspension of the work. When completed it is 
thought that passengers from America, by the Liverpool 
mail steamers, will pass over it, and thus shorten the pas- 
sage from England to America about two days. There 
will also be considerable local business along the road, 
which can not fail to improve this part of the country, 
now said to be the most neglected and wretched portion of 
the Island. 



CHAPTER III. 

A DAY IN CORK. 

A View of Cork. — A Reflection. — An unexpected Acquaintance. — Irish Gra- 
titude for American Benevolence. — Mardyke. — An American Ship. — Wea- 
riness. — A Lunch. — Various Topics. — A Car Ride. — Blarney Castle. — Re- 
flections. — The Blarney Stone. — Englishmen. — Father Mathew. — Descrip- 
tion of the City. 

CORK. 

The approach to Cork, from the west, is remarkably 
beautiful and picturesque. The road winds down into the 
valley from a lofty ridge, which overlooks the whole city 
and its suburbs, and a wide extent of undulating country, 
through which the river Lee meanders, in its way from the 
mountains on the northwest to the cove just below the city. 
A ridge of hills bounds the opposite side of the valley, 
which swell, and recede, and rise in gentle acclivities to 



STOP IN A YARD. 45 

irregular heights. The sides of these hills are thickly- 
studded with elegant mansions, charmingly embowered in 
copses of trees. In the bottom of the valleys and extend- 
ing up the bases of the hills on either side, is the city, with 
its cupolas, towers, and spires, buildings of various Colors, 
styles and dimensions, its ships and steamboats, its quays 
and bridges, and fine estuary, its several prisons, with ex- 
tensive and lofty white walls, its immense barracks on the 
rising ground above the city, its Bishop's palace, and large 
poor-house, its churches, priories, convents, monuments and 
promenades, all looking fresh and thrifty, which addgreatly 
lo the variety and beauty of the picture. 

" Seen from this point," says an Irish writer, " the view 
is the finest of which any city can boast. And did the 
traveler stop here, he might well exclaim, ' The beautiful 
city of Cork !' But what appears at a distance so beau- 
tiful and imposing, will not admit of a nearer survey. The 
streets and lanes have been built without the least regard 
to order, comfort, access, cleanliness, or convenience ; and, 
consequently, they abound in the most disgusting filth, and 
exhibit more than their ample quota of the most squalid 
poverty." 

This remark does not apply to all parts of the town ; 
for, in some portions of it, the houses are well built, and 
the streets wide, neat, and handsome. 

Our coach carried us through divers streets and lanes, 
stopping only at the Post Office, till it brought up in a small 
yard adjoining the stable. Here the passengers and bag- 
gage were discharged, — after a gentle tip of the hat from the 
driver, meaning a shilling a-piece to pay him for driving us 
here, after having paid the proprietor a high fare for the 
use of his horses — to be pirated away by the runners of the 
hotels, who are, if possible, more impertinent than the same 
class of annoyances at home. After a brief consultation, 
we concluded to go to the " Royal," seeing we were in the 
Queen's dominions, and at a time when it would be no 
favorable sign to be suspected of disloyalty. 



46 EMPLOYMENT OF TIME. 

We Started out immediately on our business — to see the 
town ; for we left home with no intention of spending our 
time and money in idleness, but resolved to make the best 
possible use of both, in a way to gain the greatest amount 
of knowledge in the time appointed, and at the least actual 
expense. Our time and means were limited ; and both have 
a value which should never be squandered by any one for 
sluggish ease, or trifling pleasures. The active and judi- 
cious pursuit of knowledge and happiness, under all cir- 
cumstances, and with any amount of means, always gives 
the best capacity to relish them if attained, or to bear dis- 
appointment in case of failure. It is only after years of 
toil, and an economy amounting almost to parsimonv, that 
I have been able to start upon this journey — the dream and 
hope of my youth, and the plan of my maturer years. 
And I am now fully resolved to lose no time which can be 
appropriated to the acquisition of information, so long and 
so ardently desired. Mine shall be made, if possible, a tour 
of pleasure indeed — a pleasure which shall not end when 
the mere excitement of seeing is over, but be reawakened 
when memory recalls the past at the instance of judgment, 
demanding an equivalent for this absence and expenditure. 

The pleasure of acquiring is not the only aim of a true 
heart. The ability to possess, to employ, to make useful, 
are of equal importance. The former has been too con- 
stantly pursued by our countrymen, perhaps, while the lat- 
ter has not received the attention it deserves. But such is 
the natural course of things with the inexperienced and 
aspiring. Our nation is young. Most of her citizens are 
poor, but enterprising, with an open chance before them 
for distinction in whatever they may undertake. There 
are no laws of entailment and primogeniture, to destroy 
their ambition or crush their efforts. There is no heredi- 
tary aristocracy, no qualities of blood, to encourage indo- 
lence, or justify oppression. The road to distinction is 
open to all, and every man is made self-dependent for his 



A NEW FRIEND. 47 

success, and self-responsible for his failure. It is not strange, 
if, under such a state of things, of comparatively recent 
adoption, some should become superlatively selfish, and de- 
vote all their energies to the mere acquisition of wealth or 
personal fame ; while the next, or third, in succession, pam- 
pered, perhaps, in idleness, with no ability to appreciate the 
value of means bequeathed to him, should waste his sub- 
stance in irrational and hurtful gratifications. But those 
whose bodies have sweat to earn, and whose minds have 
been studious to employ, will be most likely to receive with 
thankfulness and occupy with discretion, the means and 
opportunities which may fall to their lot, and in a way to 
promote the objects of a true life, by laying up stores of 
practical knowledge, which shall be to them and their friends 
a source of rich enjoyment in after years. 

After wandering through a few streets, we came to several 
book stands, beside the paling of the court-house. While 
consulting about some books and maps, a well-dressed gentle- 
man stopped near us, of whom I inquired for an individual 
to whom I had a letter. He at once replied, in a manner 
that indicated more than ordinary interest in us, by saying 
that he did not exactly know the residence inquired for, but 
that, with our consent, he would take it upon him to find the 
place for us. He said he perceived we were strangers, and 
Americans ; and that he felt a high respect for our coun- 
try, and gratitude for the noble exhibition of benevolence 
on the part of its citizens, in sending such a bountiful sup- 
ply of provisions to feed the starving thousands of his 
wretched countrymen, during the terrible famine of winter 
before last ; that he was anxious to make the acquaintance 
of every American, and to do every thing in his power to 
serve them. ; that he wanted to embrace every opportunity 
to let them know the strength of Irish gratitude ; and that 
if he could be of any service to us by showing us about 
the city, introducing us to public places, or in any other 



48 GRATITUDE FOR AMERICAN CHARITY. 

way, we might command his time, for he should be most 
happy to aid us in promoting the objects of our visit. 

We were overwhelmed by the suddenness and extent of 
this expression of friendship, and for a time did not know 
how to regard it ; whether it was really in earnest ; whether 
it was mere "blarney," — for we had heard that Blarney 
castle was not far olF — or whether he was not a genteel 
blackleg, the like of some in our own country — mostly of 
foreign importation — who was making these advances to 
secure our confidence and obtain an opportunity to rifle 
our pockets. We could not do less than accept his prof- 
fered service to show us to the place we were seeking ; 
and so, expressing our thankfulness for his attention, we 
walked on in company. A few moments conversation suf- 
ficed to disarm all our suspicions, and convince us of the 
purity of his heart aiid the sincerity of his pretensions. He 
related to us the circumstances of his visit to the Macedo- 
nian, Commodore De Kay, sent out by our government 
with the contributions of our citizens for the relief of the, 
then, famishing poor of his country, himself being one of 
the committee for the reception and distribution of this 
generous, timely, and life-preserving bequest. The news 
of the arrival of this vessel, with its freight of food, at once 
attracted the destitute from a large portion of the surround- 
ing country and, while detailing to us the circumstances at- 
tending the dispensation of it to the perishing, his faltering 
voice and moistened eyes, evinced how deep was his gra- 
titude and how lively the recollection of the misery Avhich 
such timely relief served to mitigate and remove. Fathers 
looked on their sons with contentment and hope, as they 
planned the means for them to get to America, and mothers 
clasped their little ones to their heaving bosoms with all 
their remaining strength, and whispered to them lullabies 
about the blessing and abundance of America, to which 
they prayed they might, some time, go, with as much fer- 
vor as they ever prayed for the bliss of heaven. 



UNEXPECTED ATTENTIONS. 49 

Nothing so much relaxes the feeUng of selfishness, de- 
stroys the pride of nationality and knits the cords of friend- 
ship, as the recital of scenes which appeal to our common 
humanity, which stir up the deeper and holier affections, 
and quicken the course of generous feelings, too long con- 
gested and sluggish in their motions. The thick shell is 
broken ; the doors of the dark dungeon thrown wide open 
and one breathes freer and feels happier. Every thing ap- 
pears more serene and lovely. All creation is beautiful ! 
Nothing seems hateful ; and every feeling of dislike, or 
thought of evil, is banished. The attractive power of good- 
ness predominates. Sympathies blend in perfect recipro- 
city. All distinctions are lost. The soul feels something 
of heaven in that hour, and aspires after the holy and the 
infinite. It is qualified to receive and appropriate the 
great truth that God is our Father and all mankind our 
brethren. 

Our new made friend was not content with having ful- 
filled his promise, but he entertained my companions while 
I did an errand of friendship between a brother in America 
and his sister, now living in this city. He conducted us 
through the Mardyke — a beautiful promenade, a mile in 
length, raised several feet above the low, marshy meadows 
and shaded with double rows of elms on each side — to the 
hydraulic works, constructed something on the plan of 
Fairmount, by which the water is forced from the river to a 
reservoir on the side of the hill sufficientlj- elevated to sup- 
ply all the lower parts of the city. From here we followed 
our new friend to Sunday's well, celebrated in olden time for 
its miraculous healing properties, and even now revered on 
the same account, by some deluded votaries of the Romish 
Church Continuing our course along the northern side of 
the city, the jail and various public buildings were passed, 
which brought us to the stone quays spanned by some fine 
bridges. Here we were introduced to the captain of an 
American ship, who, having discharged a freight of grain, 
was busy in taking on board a return cargo of living Irish- 



50 A VVEARISOiME WALK. 

men. Indeed, humanity seems to be the principal surplus 
commodity in port, and stowed away according to the 
preparations being made, despite the stringency of our laws 
regarding room, provisions, ventillation and cleanliness, will 
doubtless, pay better than any other. 

Our generous conductor, learning that our stay was to 
be limited in Cork to a single day, was determined that we 
should make the very best use of our time and legs, which 
latter important adjuncts, having been so long used to the 
inactivity of shipboard, threatened to rebel by refusing sup- 
port to sustain our curiosity and aid the rapid and exten- 
sive movements to which our guide was urging us. 
But each was ashamed to be the first to complain of fatigue, 
and so we kept moving as rapidly as we could, to avoid 
all suspicion of any halting disposition. Now that the 
pride and ambition of that day are passed, I am free to con- 
fess that I did suffer beyond measure. It seemed to me, 
several times, that I could not go a step further, but must 
sit down where I was and own myself outrun. Then the 
glances of my companions, as tired as myself, but anxious 
to note the first sign of faltering, to divert attention from 
their own weaknesses, would rouse up all my flagging ener- 
gies, to make renewed efforts. And thus we kept on till 
two o'clock, when our kind-hearted friend bethought him- 
self that we might be tired, and proposed to take us to his 
house, not far off", and give us a " lunch." He insisted upon 
it and we assented. 

He conducted us along the left shore of the river below 
the city, to a row of new and pleasantly situated houses, 
built on the side -of the hill with prettily ornamented 
yards in front. The road was close upon the bank 
of the river which is here walled up in the manner 
of a pier. Behind, the steeply ascending gi'ound is beauti- 
fully ornamented with shade trees, hedges, gardens and pri- 
vate residences. Before, the navigable part of the river 
runs close to the shore, beyond which is an extensive 
flat which is bare at low tides. On the opposite side the 



A LUNCH. 51 

country swells off in agreeably ascending undulations, 
which are studded with elegant mansions and fine planta- 
tions. Far down the frith appears the castle of " Carragh 
Duyv,'' (Black Rock,) and the haven of the famed and 
beautiful Cove. On the right is spread out the whole city, 
with its shipping, bridges, and principal buildings in sight. 

I am particular in this description to show that Irishmen 
are not devoid of taste, nor the means of gratifying it, but 
that so far as they have the means, the arts of civilization 
are employed for the promotion of solid comfort and the 
higher sources of rational happiness. 

We were introduced into a dwelling every way comfort- 
able and moderately elegant, and received a very cordial 
welcome from Mrs. H — , when her husband informed her 
that we were Americans. She soon ordered the table to 
be spread, and a lunch placed upon it. A large cubic loaf 
of white bread — say ten inches square ; the quarter of an 
American cheese — esteemed here a great luxury; some 
butter ; a common glass bottle of whiskey, with water, su- 
gar, tumblers, and knives, were all duly arranged. No 
chairs v\ere placed about the table. We were asked to 
" sit up and help ourselves." Our host unstoppled the bottle, 
and reached it over towards our tumblers. Two of us re- 
fused, as contrary to our Temperance principles. This led 
to a general conversation upon the subject of temperance, 
during which the manner, benefits, and over-estimate of Fa- 
ther Mathew's labors were commented upon, and the great 
good that had resulted to Ireland, and America, and other 
nations. We soon found that our friend, though generally 
Uberal in his views, was ardent in his opposition to Catholi- 
cism, attributing a large share of his country's misery and 
degradation to the bad, but all-controling influence of the 
Romish priests, who, he said, " instead of striving to en- 
hghten their minds and improve their condition, are doing 
all they can to keep them in ignorance, and prejudice them 
against the English government, and Protestantism, and the 
English generally." 



52 A CONVERSATION. 

It required very little attention to see that a strong feel- 
ing of prejudice existed in his mind on these subjects, and 
so we passed away from them as soon and as adroitly as 
we could, but not without remarking that in many things 
we thought the government oppressive, especially in the 
matter of tithes, by compelling the people to help support 
doctrines they do not believe, and their own beside. Yet 
we confessed our inability to pass judgment on these sub- 
jects till better informed. 

The condition and prospects of this country, the designs 
of the " Repealers," and the probable result of the growing 
excitement upon that subject, the expected interference of 
France and America, were all considered during the time 
we remained with him. On all those topics connected with 
his country, our friend exhibited a feeling of gloom and ap- 
prehension ; but when our own country, its history, condi- 
tion and prospects, were touched upon, his manner under- 
went a complete metamorphosis ; his countenance bright- 
ened, his words were quicker and freer, and he was mani- 
festly relieved from troublesome anxieties. He many 
times spoke of his desires and plans to emigrate to our 
country, with many parts of which he had become familiar, 
by reading, and of all of which he spoke in the most en- 
thusiastic terms. In many things, his imagination far out- 
reached the reality, and we told him so. This pleased his 
wife, and we soon learned the cause why his plans were not 
put in execution. His wife was an English woman, by 
whom he had received some property, and as is the case 
with some of her nation, she weai's, in technical parlance, a 
certain kind of garment, which is emblematic of authority, 
usurped or rightful, I shall not here decide. There seems 
to be nothing unnatural or inappropriate in such exercise 
of power, seeing her Royal Majesty rules his Royal High- 
ness, it is said, with a rod of iron, and plays the Queen over 
the greatest men of the " greatest nation on earth ; on 
whose dominion the sun never sets." 

Having rested and refreshed ourselves, we begged to be 



A CAR RIDE. 53 

excused. Our friend at once assented, but not without vol- 
unteering his services, much to the discomfort of our neth- 
er limbs, to conduct us up the hill, back of his residence, by 
which we gained an extensive and beautiful view of all the 
city and country, in every direction, from the Cove to the 
mountains far inland, and to the vast tunnel which is in pro- 
cess of excavation for the South Western Railroad. Here 
he left us, promising to call for us as soon as we should re- 
turn from Blarney castle, which two of us had resolved to 
visit ; the other -prefering repose to more sight- seeing, just 
at that time. 

We bargained for an " outside car," of one of the many 
drivers standing in the street, who, like the cab-men about 
steamboat landings, are exceedingly kind to offer and insist 
upon the acceptance of their services ; promising to do, in 
the best manner and at the cheapest rate, all that is asked 
of them in any length of time one chooses to mention. 
In this instance, the distance was six or seven miles : the 
time to be one hour out, one there, and one back : the 
price, a crown. All this seemed probable enough ; but the 
result disappointed us in every particular. The miles were 
in Irish measure, being to ours as eleven to fourteen. The 
road, though excellent, is very hilly ; so, instead of three 
we were nearly five hours, and instead of a crown, a " shil- 
lun " was demanded of each in addition for driver's fee. For 
all this we were abundantly repaid, by the novelty of our ve- 
hicle, the beauty and variety of the scenery, and the altogether 
new impressions we gained from this, our first visit to an 
old feudal castle. And we were, withal, fortunate in our 
choice; not so much on account of the peculiar virtues 
said to be imparted to those who visit this castle and kiss 
the famed " Blarney stone," as from the fact that it is ro- 
mantically situated, and in an excellent state of preserva- 
tion, for one so long forsaken. 

The carriage we had taken was constructed on a plan 
unlike any thing used in our country, though common here. 
The " inside car " is somewhat like a single cab in our cities, 

5* 



54 DESCRIPTION OF A CAR. 

though differing in several respects. The "outside car'* 
is less aristocratic, but, in good weather, pleasanter, and 
hired at a cheaper rate. It consists of a body placed upon 
two wheels, with two seats, back to back, running " fore 
and aft." Between the two seats is what is called the 
" well," formed of a box eighteen inches or two feet wide, 
and, perhaps, two and a half high, extending the length of 
the carriage. Into this, baggage is packed when necessary. 
The top and sides (of the better class) are covered with 
cloth and stuffed, forming the back of the seats. On the 
fore end of the well is the seat for the driver. Below the 
seats, and extending outside the wheels, is a sort of foot- 
board, which folds up into the seat, when there are no 
riders. The seats are large enough for two, and, some- 
times, for three or four persons on a side, and not unfre- 
quently, in case of mail cars, two or three are mounted on 
the well. On roads of limited travel, these cars are used 
in place of coaches for the accommodation of passengers. 
The carriage is placed upon elliptical springs, and, on the 
excellent macadamised roads every where to be found, runs 
exceedingly easy. We met and passed several of them on 
our way to and from Blarney castle, and were once or 
twice hailed to take on other passengers. 

The road wound out of the city, through a narrow vale 
filled with wretched houses, apparently crowded by a most 
miserable set of inhabitants, many of whom ran out to beg 
of us as we passed. There are several small factories along 
the stream over which we passed. The spacious work-house 
stands in a commanding position on the opposite ridge, beyond 
which are the extensive barracks. We soon commenced the 
ascent and descent of several precipitous hills, passing many 
stone and mud cabins, with thatched roofs, with here and 
there a tolerably pleasant looking residence. 

At the end of an hour we found ourselves in a beautiful 
and well cultivated valley, adorned with pleasant houses 
and farms, on the rising ground on the right, and the gray 
walls of the castle, towering high above the surrounding 



A VILLAGE. 55 

frees, at some distance on the left. After passing a small 
village, containing an old church — romantically situated in a 
grove of trees, like some we have seen in New England — a 
hotel, stores, factories, mills, a few decent dwellings and 
many poor ones, we turned off the main road and came to 
the gate leading to the castle grounds. Before our object 
was made known, a little girl started off upon the run, for 
what we did not know. We followed after, crossed the 
meadow, and ascended by what was once a splendid 
garden, ornamented with shade trees, flowers, shrubs, 
hedges, graveled walks, bordered with box, and containing 
some well-worn images — now only used for the commonest 
kind of a kitchen garden. On the other side of the road 
is a dilapidated cottage, with an array of old barns, stables, 
and sheds, enclosed in a high, ivy-clad wall, now used for 
the storing of grain and fodder for the cows and sheep 
herded about them in winter. From the wall an extensive 
lawn spreads out, descending gradually to the south, shaded 
with innumerable large and handsome trees, and termina- 
ted by a little lake, beyond which ascend richly cultivated 
fields, in which a great number of men, women, and teams 
were at work. The whole scene wears an air of freshness 
and rural beauty much resembling the finer landscapes 
which border our western prairies. 

Turning to the right, and passing the high garden wall, 
we came directly before the castle, which now stands up in 
its lonely greatness, frowning sullenly upon the little visitors 
whose curiosity brings them so far and so late to wonder at 
the relics of departed majesty. It is a mighty pile, the 
monument of other and different days, but still grand in 
its desolation, and significant as the tombstone of those 
who reared it. The main shaft, forming the tower, is 
square, and rises without a projecting base, directly from 
the green lawn, rearing its gray walls, smooth and naked, 
on the south and west, to the height of a hundred feet 
and are surrounded by a projecting battlement with small 
turrets crowning each of the four corners. There are no 



56 A LOaUACIOITS GUIDE. 

doors or windows on these sides. The north base rests 
upon the brink of a Umestone ledge, which overhangs the 
vale and stream, some fifty feet below. On this side, there 
are several windows affording light and prospect to suites 
of small rooms in the second and third stories. The east 
side of it is faced by an outer wall, which enclosed the main 
dwelling of the castle. The inner wall, bounding the little 
court next to the massive tower, is all fallen, so that one 
sees only the outer enclosure with its numerous windows, 
some of them of monstrous proportions. A small round tow- 
er projecting from I he north-east corner up which wound the 
cylindrical stairs to the various apartments in the different 
stories of the keep. This, like the main tower, and another 
small one standing at the distance of a dozen rods to the east, 
is in a good state of preservation. 

In a short time, the little girl returned, accompanied by 
an old woman, who addressed us in broad Irish, and bade 
us welcome to Blarney castle. On hearing that we 
were Americans she became exceedingly loquacious and 
attentive, expressing ten thousand thanks and calling 
on God, the Virgin and all the saints to bless us and our 
" distant coounthry," for preserving her poor countrymen 
from the horrible death of famine. She mixed up with 
her expressions of gratitude descriptions of the buildings 
about us. " Sure, an' this hoouse right where ye stand was 
the coort, and where ye sees that great winder right afore 
ye in the second stoory was the Earl's banqueting hall ; 
where that winder bees by the Kttle tower was his library, 
along this side coming oop to the tooer, was the two parlors ; 
aboove all these was the slaping rooms, going clare round 
to that side there, cover the gate, and oop to that corner of 
the tooer. Och, we should huv starved, hadn't yer kind 
coonthiymin been soo good to us, soo mindful of our miseries. 
God be praised, ye did us much good ; an' sure no Irishman 
can nivir be afther foorgitting it. Och, yes, that was the 
wine cellar, oond that was the kitchen, where ye sees that 
great fire-place. Boot I'll shu ye kind gintilmin these 



BLARNEY CASTLE. 57 

when we've coome doown, for ye will want to goo to the 
"Blaarney stoone." The old lady talked so fast we could 
not utter a word of inquiry or thankfulness. 

She now turned and unlocked a shabby wooden door^ 
cut and hacked with letters and names, through which we 
entered the main castle, or tower. The wal's, at the base^ 
are seventeen feet thick, receding as they rise in each story. 
The room we entered was nearly square, perhaps forty by 
fifty feet. There were no windows on either side. The light 
shone in through the door, and dimly from an opening 
through the partition on the north side which divided it from 
some rooms in that quarter. The ground was covered with 
various kinds of lumber, ploughs, harrows, ladders, doors, 
boards and timber stored here, in a most unseemly manner. 
At the height of fifteen or twenty feet, there was, formerly, 
a floor, now fallen, and on the east, or side next the court, 
was an elegant fire-place, the marble jambs and ornaments 
of which are still standing. On the south side are arched 
recesses. The arch over it still remains at a height of per- 
haps fifty feet. The whole was finished in a very plain but 
substantial manner. The room above, with the elegant 
fire-place, is called the Earl's room ; it has no windows and 
but two doors, one opening from the stairway, in the north- 
east angle, and the other into his private apartments in the 
north-west. It must have been a dark hole to borough in 
without lamps. The small door by which we entered, is 
the only aperture on the east front, and the only place of in- 
gress or egress, except by a narrow winding flight of steps, 
which descend to the well, situated in the north east corner 
of the outer buildings, under the library room, and near the 
dungeon, with the passage to which a secret door connected, 
which led by the kennel for the bloodhounds, to the valley on 
the north side. Close by this door of entrance, on the right, 
commences a flight of winding stone stairs, which lead to 
the different stories, from which doors open into the several 
rooms along the north side, and into the Earl's room, and 
into the chapel immediately over it. In the north-west 



58 THE TOWN. 

corner, immediately off from the main room, and in the se- 
curest part of the tower w^as the Earl's sleeping and 
dressing rooms, which show some little signs of taste and 
comfort, as well as safety. The roof of the chapel is fallen 
in, and the floor is covered with a mass of rubbish, among 
which various shrubs, and vines, and grass are growing, and 
one or two trees more than ten feet high. The walls of the 
chapel, which form the summit of the tow^er, are ascended 
by narrow stairs in the north-east and north-west corners. 
The latter passes from a small room with a large fire-place 
where our garrulous conductress said they cooked in time 
of a siege, and prepared melted lead, scalding water and 
red hot stones to cast down from the battlements upon the 
assailing foe. The old lady tugged up to the very top, puff- 
ing like a Mississippi steamboat — a thing she had not " doon 
in a tw^elvemoonth, an' sure one she would not now be af- 
ther doing, boot for the rispict she felt in her shoul foor 
these blissid gintilmin from Ameriky." 

Around the top of the tower is a projecting battlement, 
resting upon large stones, which project from the corners 
of the main wall, three or four feet below the summit, and 
at distances of six or eight feet from each other. This 
outer parapet rises higher than the main wall, and at a dis- 
tance of two feet or more, leaving apertures down which 
darts, javelins, melted lead, red hot stones, boiling water, 
and other missiles of destruction could be hurled upon an 
enemy who should venture to assail and attempt to batter 
down the walls. 

This mode of defence was of little service after the in- 
vention of gunpowder, as the broken stone upon the south 
battlement shows ; for when Oliver Cromwell came this 
way with the army of the Commonwealth, and planted his 
cannon upon the rising ground which commands the castle, 
and fired a few thirty-two pounders, which fractured the 
stone now sustained by a band of iron, the great McCarthy 
was compelled to hold out the white flag and surrender at 
discretion. This was the winding up of feudalism in these 



THE FOUNDATIONS OF WEALTH. 59 

parts, and there has since been no real use for these cas- 
tles ; though this, and some others which were not much 
injured, continued to be inhabited for many years. A few 
are so still, but none of them possess the aristocratic pride 
and power once enjoyed. There is no more use for them. 
The masses have searched for and found the sources of 
power, and a feudal lord can no longer hold his vassals in a 
state of complete surveillance, or lead them to war against 
other clans at will. Civil law, extended over the nation, 
investing the general government with executive authority, 
ibrbids the exercise of feudal power by lords and barons, so 
that these shelters are no longer needed to protect the heads 
of clans in times of petty wars. 

At present, this castle is the property of a Mr. Jeffreys, 
who takes little pains to preserve it from decay, or keep it 
in a comfortable condition for visitors. The " god of war " 
has been exchanged for the " golden calf," which receives a 
devouter homage and a costlier sacrifice than the former 
ever did. The sacrifices are not the fresh blood freely 
spilled in valorous deeds of chivalry, nor the hideous tor- 
tures of savage barbarity, which have marked the ages that 
are past. They are the wearing, tearing, carking cares of 
money-getting, which eat into men's souls, and, like a stimu- 
lating drink, urge forward in courses of extravagance at 
first never contemplated. The vassals are no longer led to 
battle, weaponed and fed, at the lord's expense. They are 
sent into the field to work and starve. The uiill is con- 
quered, and a tame submission to oppression long enforced, 
has destroyed all consciousness of self-dignity and hope of 
social redemption, so that the peasantry, or vassals, now 
live in a condition of constant dependence and patronage 
more servile and humiliating than existed in the sunniest 
days of feudalism. The lords have become more selfish, 
aristocratic, more ease-loving, and, in consequence, less 
mindful of the wants, comfort, and honor of their depend- 
ents. Before, they loved their subjects as a groom does 
his horse, for show or speed, and so kept them fat and sleek. 



60 CONVERSATION WITH ENGLISHMEN. 

Now they love them for the work they do, the rents and 
profits which they pay, and are more careless of them than 
a merchant is of a hired cartman's mule. Of com^se, ex- 
ceptions are to be made in favor of those Vi'ho have hearts 
of humanity, influenced by that love so forcibly inculcated 
in the Christian religion, which moves some of them to act 
honorably and humanely. The owner of this property, the 
old lady tells us, is one of this kind ; and the general ap- 
pearance of the lands and people induce me to believe 
there is some truth in her testimony. 

On reaching the top of the tower, we found three Eng- 
lishmen, who had ascended some time before us. They 
were regaling themselves with anecdotes, cigars, and the 
beautiful scenery. When told we were from America, 
they inquired about the appearance of our country, its cu- 
riosities and antiquities, seeming to pride themselves that 
we had no ancient ruins to compare with theirs. We were 
compelled to own we had no such proofs of former folly 
and wrong ; that all that is great with us is modern and 
republican, being owned and shared by all. But, feeling 
our pride chafed a little by the manner in which they spoke 
to us, we remarked that America could boast antiquities 
more ancient than the pen of history, traditionary ballads, 
or fable had penetrated ; the skeletons of animals more stu- 
pendous than could any where else be found, indicating 
that our country had been the home of giant races, of 
which the world was no more worthy, and of which the 
pigmies of the present day can form but indistinct ideas. 
They were silenced by our recital, when we referred to 
our rivers, lakes, cataracts, mounds, and other relics, and 
seemed to regard us as more worthy of their acquaint- 
ance, at least. They soon turned the conversation upon 
the mutual interests and dependencies of the two countries. 

Among the many delightful views afforded by our ele- 
vated position, was a Hydropathic establishment, situated 
on a beautiful slope, a mile or so distant, in a noi'th- westerly 
direction. It is embowered in charming shade trees- 



THE BLARNEY STONE. 61 

among which the inmates could be seen, by the help of a 
glass, exercising in playful gayety. This object led to a 
description of the dangerous practices pursued there, pend- 
ing the discussion of which we signified our intention to 
descend. 

" Ah, boot an' sure yer riverince will not be afther laving 
afoore he's kessed the Blaarney stone. Noo boody laves 
without it," said the loquacious old dame, who was so well 
rested that she could talk as garrulously as ever. 

" Where is the famed Blarnev stone ? I would like to see 
it." 

"An' kiss it, oov coorse, or it will be of no good to ye at 
all, at all. All gintilmin does so, foor why else should they 
be afther cooming heer so fur. I will shoo ye, though it 
bes a long time sence I climbed oop to it ; but as ye bes 
coome so fur froom Ameriky, that blissed coountry, I will 
be afther doing it for ye. Here, this way." 

She led us up a narrow flight of winding stairs, which 
conducted to the top of the wall, from which a few steps 
ascended, on the outside, to the top of the small turret rising 
from the battlement, and main wall, on the north-east corner 
of the tower to the height of eight or ten feet. In the cen- 
ter of the top of this turret, is a small blue-stone boulder, it 
may be a foot or more in diameter, imbedded in the mason- 
ry, and elevated a little above the surface, with some un- 
readable characters roughly cut upon it, but nearly oblite- 
rated. 

" There, that bes it, an' ye moost kess it thra times." 

" Why, what good will it do to kiss it three times ? Is 
not once sufficient ?" 

" Oh, noo, niver a bit ; foor all that coome here kess it 
thra times ; surely they do. They niver goo away withoot 
it." 

" Pray tell me, good woman, what the use is in kissing it 
at all. Will it make me rich, or wise, or good, or happy ? 
What will it do for me ?" 

" An that I can noo be afther telling ye, an}" boo. But 

6 



62 ITS PECULIAR VIRTUES. 

I noo every boody kesses it, they do ; and the great Saint 
Patrick, when the castle was doone, put his hand on it, an 
blessed it, and sooine say he laid it there. But I don't noo 
about it," 

I tried every way to find out if she understood any thing 
of the virtues attributed to this famed stone in ihe legends 
M'hich are told of it. She seemed to be entirely ignorant 
of its qualities, and forgot that this castle was built centu- 
ries after Saint Patrick died ; but her peculiar loquacity in- 
dicated that she was not altogether a stranger to its pecu- 
liar virtues ; for her flattery of us and our country bordered 
closely upon " blarney," or had an inkling to the liberal pay 
she expected of us. Waiving all scruples, for her sake, see- 
ing she had shown us such particular attention, I stooped 
and kissed the " Blarney stone." Whether it was a sudden 
effusion of the hidden virtues of the stone, or the effect of 
looking from a height so giddy and fearful, I cannot say ; 
but I own I felt a strange and wild sensation about my head 
and heart, and so hurried to get down as soon as possible. 

Of the building and history of Blarney castle I need not 
write. Those curious to know more about it, must exam- 
ine the legends and history of the south of Ireland. But 
one thing some may be pleased to learn : that, from time 
immemorial, the " Blarney stone" has possesed the astonish- 
ing power of imparting a wonderful charm to the manners 
and conversational abilities of all who kiss it, which ren- 
ders them peculiarly persuasive and pleasing to most peo- 
ple — a manner amounting not quite to flattery, neither stick- 
ing exactly to the rougher qualities of truth ; but, in a quiet, 
easy, soothing way, so insinuating good opinions of one's self, 
by gentle, unpretending praises, and sweet, unsuspicious 
words, that the listener is won to yield a willing and happy 
assent, without much perplexity of judgment or injury to pride. 
And this virtue is diffusive, being possessed by thousands 
who never saw or heard of castle Blarney at all, but who, 
either by intuition or discursively, have attained a singular 
faculty of using " blarney " with as much force and free- 



ITS PECULIAR VIRTUES. 63 

dom as if they had actually been here. And what is wor- 
thy of note, also, is, that few object to its use. Most consider 
it a praiseworthy accomplishment in themselves and oth- 
ers, and assent to its use with a becoming degree of self- 
complacency. Like the " braktan " set in the wall of the 
Kaaba at Mecca, which is kissed seven times by every Ma- 
hometan hadji, and forms the Kehla towards which he turns 
his face in prayer, the " Blarney stone " has long been an 
object of almost religious veneration by every wooing lover 
who wished to win his way to the heart of his lady-love ; 
and to every aspirant for social renown, in the lighter walks 
of colloquial intercourse. " Blarney " is a much more 
classic term in its sound and meaning than the vulgar words 
"soft-soap," so common in our country, though in mean- 
ing, there is, perhaps, little diffei'ence. But enough of this. 

On descending, we passed down from the court, through 
the ruins of the keep, and so round to the north side, where 
we entered a passage which led to the dungeon, a dark hole 
in the shape of a baker's oven, a dozen feet in diameter, 
and scarce high enough for a short man to stand erect in 
the center. A small, round aperture, two or three inches 
across, perforated the roof and admitted the only light, and 
this came in an angular direction through the side wall. 
A small door, like an oven's mouth, being barely large 
enough to thrust a man through, head foremost, opened, 
breast high, from the passage. Near the passage to this 
dungeon, and connecting with it, are the steps coming down 
from the main tower, under the foundations of the outer 
buildings of the castles, and leading to the well, still deeper, 
on the right. By this long flight a private communication 
was had between the tower, the well, the dungeon, and th^ 
yard bordering the north side of the castle, the walls around 
which are now in ruins. Close by this door is a large dog- 
kennel, where the blood hounds were kept to guard the pas- 
sage to the dungeon. The yard itself was said to be for 
the hunting hounds. 

A little to the west of the castle commences a natural 



64 RETURN TO THE CITY. 

cave, which passes through the limestone cUff, a distance, 
it is said, of half a mile, to the small lake before mentioned. 
We entered several rods, and broke off some coarse stalac- 
tites, formed by the water ^^■hich percolates through the ground 
and drops constantly from the roof. But our curiosity was 
not sufficient to induce us to venture, without a light, over 
the rough, wet stones, to any great distance. The notion is 
that this cave was used to convey water from the pond, and 
as an avenue of escape, in case of emergency. 

Having surveyed all parts of the castle, the first thing of 
the kind we ever saw, we paid our conductress her " shillun" 
and the little girl who went for her, a sixpence, and received 
thanks, and prayers for vast and innumerable blessings relating 
to both this world and the next. We hastened back to the 
gate and found the keeper in waiting to open and receive his 
pay. Leeches are thick about these castles. We mounted 
our car and returned by another and more hilly and roman- 
tic road, which leads by the splendid demesnes of several 
wealthy gentlemen to the city, where we arrived before sunset. 

Our friend had been in waiting for us some time, to 
showus about the city and introduce us to Father Mathevv, 
the celebrated advocate of tem[)erance, in whom much in- 
terest has been felt in this country and ours. I was sorry 
to learn, as I did, from numerous sources, that his popular- 
ity is not so great at home, as it was formerly, and that 
many good friends of temperance suspect him of interested 
aiod ambitious motives in his labors. When did ever a man 
do good without awakening envy and creating suspicion ? 
Theobold Mathew is a Catholic priest, educated for his 
church and undoubtedly prejudiced, and it may be bigoted, 
in its favor. He is, doubtless, like other m.en, made up of 
earthly materials, which may, perchance, influence him, 
somewhat as other men are influenced. Few persons are 
indifferent to honest praise ; not many to flattery. The con- 
sciousness of having done a great and good work, for wiiich 
multitudes bless him and many curse — a double reward ! — 
may induce a manner of conduct not rightly appreciated 



FATHER MATIIEVV. 65 

by all the world. His friends, generally, are among the 
humbler portions of the community ; for there, as here, and 
now as of old, "not many mighty, not many noble," have 
been called to enter the ranks of temperance. And his 
opposers are in his own church, and among his brother 
priests, as well as among those in other churches and in the 
higher and gayer walks of wealth and nobility. But de- 
spite all these influences he is doing a good work in his 
way. Out of the multitudes who sign his pledge, some will 
keep it and be restored to usefulness, happiness, and honor. 
He deserves much praise. 

As we approached his dwelling, we observed the knocker 
of the door had been wrenched off by violence. We sup- 
posed some foe of temperance had done it in spite. Our 
friend assured us that such was not the fact ; that the poverty 
and misery which prevailed so fearfully had driven many to 
commit such theft to prevent starvation. He pointed out doors 
robbed of knockers, iron railings of brass balls, churches of 
ornaments. The most daring robberies are committed in a 
small way by the multitudes who can find no other means 
to keep soul and body united. Ail over the city are seen 
proofs of destitution and wretchedness, such as I never con- 
templated before. What crimes have not ignorance and priests 
led people to commit ? How fearfully responsible are the 
rich and proud oppressors of their fellow-men for the very 
crimes they so loudly condemn ! And society and government 
are not without fault in the incidental production of those 
crimes they so severely punish. The reward to both are 
troubles and anxieties felt for the insecurity of life and pro- 
perty, and the misery and disgrace amidst which they are 
compelled to move. The man who gives intoxicating 
drinks to a company, which becomes mad and boisterous, 
destroys his property and maims his body, can not easily 
exonerate himself from all blame in the matter; nei- 
ther can the community or government which keeps a por- 
tion of people in ignorance and poverty, by insufferable and 

6* 



66 THE TEMPERANCE PLEDGE. 

degrading exactions, be held in complete exemption from all 
accountability. And they are not free from the curse and 
ignominy which inevitably attend such a state of things. 
God deals with communities and nations, as with individuals. 
None can escape his judgments. 

On entering, we were conducted into a very plain and 
coarsely furnished room, used as a sort of office for the 
reception of the innumerable visitors of the worthy 
priest. 

We were asked to be seated on some unpainted wooden 
benches. The clerk for Father Mathew, who attends to tem- 
perance and his friends in a business way, was engaged 
with a party which had preceded us. As soon as they left, 
we inquired for the Apostle of temperance, and were in- 
formed that he was out of the city, tarrying with his bro- 
ther on account of ill-health, as he desired to be relieved 
from the cares to which he was subjected when at home. We 
were shown his pledge and long ledger of 5,710,700 names 
which have been affixed to it, the number, age and resi- 
dence of each signer being placed on the margin, and the 
date at the head of the page, after the manner of a register 
at the hotels. The number increases at the rate of twenty 
or thirty daily. 

But many sign it, we were told, who do not consider 
themselves bound to keep it, but merely as a compliment to 
the Reformer, a remembrance of their visit to him, the same 
as they write their names in albums kept at places of fash- 
hionable resort. Still it is presumed that a large portion do 
it from principle, with a view to correct their habits, and 
encourage a good cause, of whose mission Ireland has 
much need, and that the most favorable results will be 
experienced. Indeed, the good fruits of this reform are ex- 
tensively seen in the improved condition of the people and 
the better order which prevails in all parts of the kingdom. 
Nobody denies this, but all rejoice at it. Yet, as in our coun- 
try, there are thousands and tens of thousands, who think 
well, and speak well of this great and glorious moral and 



A WORK OF MERIT. 67 

social enterprise, who do nothing to advance it, and who will 
not partake of its benefits directly, but keep aloof from all 
connexion with it, and even lend their influence and exam- 
ple against the labor of its friends and advocates, prefer- 
ing to gratify a bad habit, and sustain a dangerous practice, 
by indulging in a whiskey punch or a social glass, whenever 
and wherever they please. But it has always been thus, 
since the world began to jog forward. Many great works 
like the tallest pines or mightiest oaks, are of humble origin, 
and doomed, like them, to endure the buffetings of many a 
howling storm ; yet though a good cause be thus rudely as- 
sailed, or obliged to contend against " spiritual wickedness 
in high places," its followers need not despond, for so 
surely as light dispels darkness, so certain is it that a good 
work, though commenced in tribulation, shall be consum- 
mated in joy. The word of God is against all evil, and his 
promise of the triumph of right will not fail to cheer the 
hearts of those who sincerely labor for the elevation and 
happiness of the race of man. 

Imprudence and rashness are always dangerous. " He 
that believeth must not make haste," but be careful to note 
God's time in the circumstances wherein he is placed. He 
may cease from doing, for a time, and flee into the wilder- 
ness for security, as the Prophet did, but he can never be 
indifferent, nor lend his influence against what is right — 
whnt ought to be — what he desires may be. He would be 
guilty if he did, and neither God nor his own conscience 
would hold him blameless for such cowardice or treachery. 
The reward is for the faithful. 

Ireland and the world have need of many such men as 
Father Mathew, to prepare human hearts to receive the 
truth ; or, rather, to clear away the deceptions of sin and 
error, the force of bad habits, that the truth may have a 
chance to reach men's hearts and do good execution there. 
Intemperance is among the most common and ruinous 
vices. Its consequences are direct, inevitable, and diflTu- 
sive ; and hence the enormities of this sin, and all the 



68 AN IMPORTANT DISTINCTION. 

flowery avenues which lead to it, can be more easily 
pointed out and more readily shunned. And when once 
the mind is disenthralled from a single vice, there is reason 
to hope it will feel a truer freedom to pursue what is right ; 
what is best ; what duty demands ; what our good, our 
peace, our honor require, and God approves. 

Such were some of the reflections which passed through 
my mind, as I left the humble abode of this new light in 
the Catholic priesthood, and listened to the different and 
contradictory accounts and arguments of interested parti- 
zans in this great movement. I can not refuse to utter my 
feeble voice to help swell the praises of this man. He is 
great because he has done much good. But he is not a 
god, to be worshipped or obeyed ; and so 1 pity the blind- 
ness and credulity of many of his followers and admirers. 
He is simply a Catholic priest — for that I neither honor nor 
despise him. He is a philanthropist, a lover of temperance, 
order, and human happiness. He is a friend to his poor, 
oppressed countrymen, laboring faithfully as he can, to de- 
liver them from their worst enemy, the greatest tyrant, the 
curse of their prosperity, the ruin of their peace, and 
to set them in the way of redemption, by guiding them to 
sobriety, virtue, honesty, industry, happiness, and honor. 
In this enterprize he has burst out of the shell of his order, 
transcended the authority of his superiors, and, in God's 
name, gone to work a work in behalf of his wretched 
country and the world. The man, the Christian, has risen 
above the level of the priest, and he breathes the purer at- 
mosphere of freedom ; a clearer sky is over him, and fairer 
objects about him. I speak of him as a Temperance man. 
As such, I love, and honor, and praise him. As a priest he 
may be tame, yielding, or sycoplikntic, bowing and cringing 
befoi'e his bishops, to whom he sacrifices his manhood to 
retain his place. He may sustain the errors of his church, 
and seek its ascendency by unholy means. For that — if 
so — my Protestantism does not respect him. But I can not 
join the cry against his whole character on that account. 



DESCUIPTION OF CORK. 69 

We must learn to separate between the wheat and the 
chaff" — to discern practical goodness from theoretical pro- 
fession, sober reality from idle form, active benevolence 
from spiritual quietism. We shall then have more reason to 
love and respect, and less to hate and condemn our fellow- 
men. The good we should approve, and cast the bad 
away. 



CITY OP CORK. 

Cork is the second city in Ireland in respect to popula- 
tion and commercial importance. It contains over one 
hundred thousand inhabitants, and is the centre of an ex- 
tensive trade. Immense quantities of butter are exported 
to England, more than from any other city, and a conside- 
rable amount of provisions, live stock, and agricultural 
produce. And the large tract of country which finds a 
market here is supplied with the various articles imported 
from England and other countries. It is situated mostly in 
the low bottom land, and separated by the river Lee into 
several islands, but extends up the hills on either side. 
Several fine bridges are thrown over the two principal 
branches of the river which make the central part of it an 
island, connecting it with the mainland A small stream 
comes down from the north-west, through a narrow valley, 
up which a branch of the city extends. 

The city contains several good and substantial public 
buildings, some of which ])resent a fair show of elegance. 
The county and city court-houses and jails ; the custom 
house and several banking houses ; the chamber of com- 
merce and Mansion House appear well, as do some of the 
hotels. There are also some large and handsome churches 
scattered about the city. St. Finbar's cathedral, so called 
in honor of the saint who founded the city in the seventh 
century, is a large and handsome building, partly ancient, 
partly modern. It has a lofty octangular spire of hewn 
stone, out of which, it is said. Cromwe-ll took the bells and 



70 PUBLIC BUILDINGS. 

converted them into cannon. Near the cathedral, which 
belongs to the Episcopalians, is the Bishop's palace and 
Dean's court, elegant buildings — religion here bears the 
marks of royal favor. We could not understand what was 
meant by a " Bishop's palace and Dean's court," till our 
friend had enlightened us upon the subject of church dig- 
nity and authority. Around the Cathedral there is also an 
ancient burial ground, containing the remains of an innu- 
merable company of men, not all unknown to fame in 
church or state. 

There are also several Catholic churches, two or three 
Methodist, a Presbyterian, Unitarian, Quaker, Independ- 
ent, and some others. There is a Franciscan priory, with 
a modern chapel and convent. The Dominicans have a 
chapel; and also the Capuchins, under Father Mathew, 
which, when completed, will make a handsome appearance ; 
for, in despite of poverty, intemperance, and starvation, 
these poor Catholics find money to build and ornament 
large and extravagant churches, and endow convents, mo- 
nasteries and nunneries of several orders. There are sev- 
eral literary, scientific and charitable institutions, and man- 
ufacturing establishments ; every thing, in short, which 
goes to make up a large commercial seaport town. 

Cork has an excellent harbor ; and a vast expenditure 
has been made to build solid stone quays, and connect them 
with the Cove by extensive improvements in the river, 
which are still in progress. Steamboats ply between this 
city and London, Bristol, Liverpool, Dublin, Belfast, and 
Glasgow, and a fair array of masted vessels lay along the 
wharves. 

There is a marked distinction noticeable among the peo- 
ple, which T have never been accustomed to see at home, 
except in some of our colored population, and the greenest 
Irishmen who beg for employment. Business men appear 
smart, active and well informed ; but the lower classes 
bear the marks of oppression and poverty. They look de- 
jected, heart-broken, and carry an air of discontent and 



LEAVE CORK. 71 

suspicion, which makes one feel ill at ease among them. 
Their very looks indicate their unhappiness — their filth 
and rags their poverty. Numbers of them are seen all 
about the town, idle ; because they have nothing to do. 
Beggars are met at every turn, who promise liberally, in 
heaven's name, for the smallest pittance bestowed upon 
them. 



CHAPTER IV. 

TO THE WEST OF IRELAND. 

A Rainy Morning. — Red Coats. — Leave Cork. — Fine Scenery. — Old Castles. 
— The Conquest of Ireland. — Some Thoughts. — Macroom. — A Living 
Castle. — Squalid Misery — Mill-Street. — A Scene of Wretchedness. — A 
Beautiful Prospect. — Cloghereen. — Description of Misery. — Sir Richard 
Courtney. — Turk Falls. — A Grand View. — Potcheen. — Attendants. — A 
Pedlar. 

WEST OF IRELAND. 

May 19. — We rose at an early hour, to take another look 
about the city. The morning was rainy, and we had taken 
an outside seat. So our main object was to find an um- 
brella store, to secure the means of shielding ourselves from 
the storm. The stores, generally, are not opened before 
eight o'clock — the time we were to start. Our Catholic 
companion had provided himself, the night before, with a 
mackintosh overcoat, and started at midnight for Dublin. 
We had a damp prospect before us ; but our spirits were 
good, and our mortal man considerably rested ; so we did 
not hesitate to start at the appointed time, without an um- 
brella, for Killarney. 

We settled our bills with the hostess — the women are 
the clerks here ; men do the waiting — and asked her if that 
was all. She replied that it was. But before we had fairly 



72 RED-COATS, 

turned away, the head waiter demanded a '' shillun," and 
the chambermaid " a shillun, an' it plase yer honor." Boots 
had seized our baggage, and started for the coach office. 
We had no time to parley, and so yielded to the demand 
of forty-five cents for service, after paying for tea, bed, and 
breakfast, and twelve and a half more to the Boots for run- 
ning away with our valises. 

Coaches do not call for passengers at their houses or ho- 
tels, as is the custom in our countr3^ They take them and 
leave them at their offices — rain or shine ; rich or poor, 
blind or halt, it is all the same. If a man can not walk, he 
must hire a conveyance to the office, and be sure to be 
there at the moment, for the coach leaves as punctually as 
our cars and steamboats. The rain was pouring down in 
torrents. The coach was standing in the yard without 
any shelter. Two men seated with the driver. We had 
engaged the seats behind him. Neither had a cushion. 
A man brought some straw and spread upon them, for which 
he demanded a contribution. Three passengers mounted 
behind. Soon the red-coat guard took his seat — a fat, gruff 
Englishman — and commanded the driver to start. 

I never had much respect for red-coats. My grandfather 
taught me to think ill of them. They were always odious 
in his eyes. Ever after he saw them at Bunker Hill and 
Saratoga, he never liked red. And I had been taught to 
use the word " red-coat " as a term of reproach, signifying 
an oppressor, an enemy of justice and right, one who 
cared nothing for any body but himself And what I have 
seen of them here has not much altered my opinion. They 
exhibit a proud and lofty manner. A smile is rarely seen 
upon their lips, and few words escape them, except of au- 
thority. Their answers are in monosyllables, and they 
seem to take no interest in any but themselves. Of course, 
such men are illy qualified to entertain inquisitive Yankees, 
who are anxious to know all they can about every thing 
they see or hear. Never mind. He pays strict attention 
to his little mail-bags, and exchanges one at each post office 



OLD CASTLES. 73 

on GUI* route. It is very well. That is his business, for 
which he is paid and put here. It does not belong to his 
office to entertain or amuse travelers, who may never come 
this way again, and from whom he expects to receive noth- 
ing. What Englishman works, or talks, or fights without 
pay ? We have heard much of American littleness, but 
we have seen richer specimens of that article already than 
were ever found in any part of our country ; and, from 
appearances, there are more to come. 

Our road run along side of the Mardyke, and near to the 
Lee for some distance. We passed Carrigrohon castle, sit- 
uated on a precipitous cliff, formerly a stronghold of the 
McCarthys, now a pile of ruins. The clan of McCarthy 
once commanded all the region about Cork. A little far- 
ther on, we passed the village of Ballincollig — a large mili- 
tary depot, with extensive gunpowder mills, barracks and 
magazines, which cover a large area, with open spaces 
about the buildings for their greater safety. Near the vil- 
lage are the ruins of Ballincollig castle. A mile or two 
further on, we passed the Inniscarra church, and entered 
into a wild and picturesque region of country, not unlike 
some scenery at home. The road winds along the river, 
between abrupt hills, with here and there a small growth 
of young timber, wild, uncultivated lands, now ascending a 
sharp hill, or crossing a small stream, or turning around a 
dug way opening into a pleasant valley. 

What adds most to the beauty of the scenery and makes 
it more interesting to us, is the numerous old castles scat- 
tered along the road, within a few miles of each other. 
They generally stand on projecting cliffs, or points of land 
extending into the valley. Few of them were built upon the 
summits of hills or pointed elevations. No thought was 
bestowed upon an attack by fire arms, for such destructive 
weapons had not been invented at the time of their erection. 
Hence they became an easy prey to the army of Cromwell. 
After a few exploits of his about Kilkenny, Cork, Limerick, 

7 



74 FEUDAL DEFENCES USELESS. 

and a few other places, none of them presumed to refuse 
their assent to the authority of the Commonwealth. 

We did not learn the names of all these crumbling mon- 
uments of Irish feudalism, for the driver could not inform 
us. He wondered why we had the curiosity to inquire 
about them. He had rode past them, daily, for two years, 
and yet did not know their names. We remember a few : 
Castle Inch, Carrignamuck, Carrigadrohid, castle Dripsey, 
a fine old ruin, at some distance on our right, castle Lynch 
and Kilcrea on the left, with its priory not much ruined. 
Some where on the route are the dilapidated castles of 
Cloghdha, Mishanaglass, Caislean, and Castlemore, formerly 
possessed by the clan of McSwiney. 

These old ruins speak to us of other times. They tell 
of wrongs and injuries, of love and valor, of ignorance and 
shame, of pride and oppression, of blood and carnage ; for 
they w'ere built and inhabited by rival clans, who were 
almost constantly at war with each other, being, at that 
time, elevated but a single grade above the savage state. 
But their history and legends, like their walls and names, 
are fast sinking into forgetfulness, and soon the dark pall of 
oblivion will be spread completely over them. Few can 
now tell us their origin, not even the time and cause of 
their abandonment. The settlement of the affairs of Ire- 
land by the interference of England, by which the whole 
country became subject to its authority, and the strifes and 
quarrels of clans referable to civil tribunals for adjustment, 
instead of an appeal to arms, had a direct influence upon 
the social condition of the people. The spread of Christi- 
anity, and the authority of the priests and bishops, tended 
to allay animosities and unite the discordant elements 
in their wild and impetuous characters, into a common 
brotherhood. And the introduction of gunpowder rendered 
these castles of little value as places of defence. They 
were not built to sustain an attack from a well appointed 
artillery. Their strength and position were planned with 



CREATION OF NEW LORDS. 75 

reference to the old method of defence. They were wholly- 
inadequate to the modern mode of warfare. 

The subjugation of the chiefs of the clans who had dared 
to attempt a defence against the attacks of their enemies, 
atToi'ded opportunity for the confiscation of their estates, 
which were freely and liberally bestowed upon another 
race of aspirants for hereditary nobility and independence, 
who were ardent in the service of their country, so long as 
there was a hope of getting gain by the destruction of pre- 
tended enemies. In this way English lords, earls and mar- 
quises were installed into Irish possessions ; and Irishmen 
who proved their honor and fidelity by distinguishing them- 
selves greatly in the sacrifice of the lives, liberty, and honor 
of their own countrymen, deserved so well, according to 
the code of British political morality, that baronetcies and 
peerages were freely given them in recompense. In this 
way the spirit of the nation was crushed, their lands and 
castles passed out of their hands, and they were hurled 
from the positions they had occupied, into penury, disgrace 
and dependence, amounting to a virtual serfdom. 

Here lies one cause of Ireland's present misery and 
shame. It has never risen from its crushed position. The 
lion's paw is laid heavily upon it, and it writhes in agony. 
But when it shows the least disposition to turn itself, in or- 
der to relieve its painful condition, the old Hon growls and 
shows his teeth, all sharp for destruction, and the poor na- 
tion lays down quietly as it can, and licks the foot of its 
oppressor, burying deeper its miseries, which gnaw still fur- 
ther into the very heart of its existence. There are those 
in England who would tear the whole carcass in pieces at 
once, and destroy it for ever ; making the Emerald Isle a 
province, into which they might introduce colonies of their 
own wretched population. Such men seriously desire an 
occasion to justify a general onslaught and final extinction 
of the Irish nation, and talk seriously about it. But heaven 
has reserved this country for some other end ; if not for 
freedom and honor, to be, as at present, the manufactory 



76 MACROOM. 

of a race which is spreading itself, like the old Teutons, 
among all the nations of the earth, for some purpose which 
shall be hereafter made manifest. 

The clouds broke away soon after we left Cork, and the 
sun shone sweetly and warmly upon the green undulating 
fields, brown old castles, low cabins and thatched cottages, 
giving life and beauty to the fine scenery through which 
we passed. 

We reached Macroom, the only town of consequence on 
the road, in little over two hours — nineteen miles. We en- 
tered it through the romantic vale of Gleancoum. We 
passed through the principal street, which is not over 
twenty-five feet wide, and has no side walks. On either 
side are rows of low stone hovels, with thatched roofs, not 
over seven feet high, looking like a coarse white-washed 
wall perforated with doors and windows, with a row of 
straw piled on top of it, nicely arranged, so as to shield it 
from the rain. The doors are generally in two parts, the 
upper half being open. The windows are not over two feet 
square, and but one in each room. The floor is the damp 
clay, and there are no windows in the chambers. A great 
number of women were sitting on benches, or on the pave- 
ment, sunning themselves and knitting. They looked rag- 
ged and filthy, and their countenances indicated any thing 
but good living and contented spirits. 



MACROOM. 

The coach stopped in the square, near the center of 
the town, about which are some ancient buildings, two 
churches, a market-house, a hotel, stores, shops, and dwell- 
ings. More than a hundred men and boys, mostly in tat- 
tered garments, were standing about the buildings, a motly 
group of miserable wretches, with haggard vacant faces, 
which filled my soul with pity as they turned their sorrow- 
ful imploring looks towards us. 

Having ten minutes to spare, we strolled about the vil- 



A LIVING CASTLE. 77 

lage. Several begged us to give them a penny. One told 
us we could go and see the castle, and pointed us to the 
gate, through which we passed into a beautiful lawn in 
front of a large and elegant building, still inhabited by a 
rich man, whose name I have forgotten. He owns a large 
tract of the surrounding country, has many dependants, 
who have elected him a member of Parliament. His 
wealth makes him great. The castle, except the tower 
and turrets on one side, is no more than a large stone house 
— the keep of the ancient Macromp castle — the outworks 
having been demolished. It may be eighty, perhaps a hun- 
dred feet in front, and forty or fifty deep. It is completely 
covered with ivy, closely matted on the sides to the very 
roof, and nicely cut away about the windows. It is a genu- 
ine, living castle, shorn of its feudal and warlike aspect, but 
possessing, instead, far more aristocratic proportions and ap- 
pearance. The grounds about are remarkably beautiful, 
stretching along both banks of the Sullane, a small clear 
stream, which washes its base. A large plantation of fine 
luxuriant trees stretches off" on one side, laid out with wind- 
ing gravel walks, with beds of flowers interspersed. It is, 
indeed, a spot of great rural beauty, made so by the taste- 
ful application of wealth and industry. 

In the wars of the revolution this was an important 
strong-hold, and guarded the principal pass from Kerry to 
Cork. It was the scene of many bloody conflicts. It was 
built by the Normans, and partook of the style of architec- 
ture peculiar to that age and nation. 

On coming out from the grounds of the demesne, we 
were accosted by the sturdy fellow who had pointed out 
the entrance to us, who wanted us to pay him. 

" Pay you, for what ? We gave the woman at the gate 
sufficient for all we have seen." 

" I'fath, an' wasn't it mesilf that woos afther shooin' the 
gintilmin the way to inter ? Sure, an' ye'll not refoose me 
a. trifle." 

We undertook an argument, which could have availed 

7* 



78 UNHAPPINESS A CAUSE OP MISERY. 

nothing with the hungry judgments about us, even if Mr. 
Red-coat had not called out to start. We rushed to the 
coach and made our escape, but scattered a few half- 
pennies among the multitude, as they turned their cadave- 
rous faces imploringly towards us, uttering many prayers 
for God to bless us. 

The valley about the town is rich, handsome and well 
cultivated, but all in the hands of a few men. The grent 
proportion of the people subsist upon the miserable allow- 
ances they can purchase with the wages of each day's la- 
bor. When they have no work to do, they have no 
victuals to eat. Their wages are never sufficient to ena- 
ble them to lay up any thing, and the habits of their lives 
are such that they might have no disposition to do so if 
they could. Some of them have small patches of ground, 
which they hire at enormous prices, but from which they 
can produce little more than enough to pay rent and taxes. 
A more wretched and squalid population I never saw ; and 
yet, the tokens of affluence, and the beauties and bounties of 
Providence are all about them — but not for them ; for even 
beauty fades when looked at with an empty stomach. 

They are unhapp)- , discontented, miserable, and, no wonder, 
if wicked ; for who does not know that a vast amount of sin 
results from unhappiness, real or imaginary, under which 
men find themselves suffering ? To relieve themselves is 
their object ; but the right means of doing it, those which 
the Infinite wisdom and benevolence has pointed out, are 
not well understood ; they are not believed ; and so the 
poor, mistaken mortal rushes forward in his own way, and 
too late finds himself deceived — that he has opened fresh 
fountains of misery to overwhelm his soul in deeper sor- 
row, and destroy what little comfort he had left him ! 

And how these few rich men can feel at ease in their splen- 
did mansions, while they know that whole multitudes are 
kept in misery by the very means of their wealth and lux- 
ury, I am not able to understand. They absorb all the 
moisture that freshens human life, and then curse the 



A WET CHANCE. 



79 



dearth they have produced themselves ! They make men 
poor, and ignorant, and wicked, and then curse them for 
being so ! Macroom offers not the solitary proof of this 
grievous iniquity in the social organism of the world, 
though the working of it produces greater contrasts than I 
have seen elsewhere. 

Our road now lay, after a few miles, through a rough, 
wild, mountainous country much of the way. We passed 
along narrow defiles, through boggy meadows, and under 
loftv mountains, following a small stream to its very source 
in a large bog, from which we descended into a small val- 
ley running between two ranges of jagged, barren moun- 
tains, in which is situated the little dirty town of Millstreet. 
We passed several ruined castles on our way; among 
them Carrig-a-Phouca, somewhat in the style of Blarney, 
though more dilapidated, having been built by the McCar- 
thys, in the early style of castle architecture. 

In the course of the afternoon it came on to rain in tor- 
rents. We were wholly unprotected from the " pelting of 
the pitiless storm." An English naval officer, on the seat 
before us, was sheltered by a good mackintosh cape, a cor- 
ner of which I borrowed without his knowledge, to shield 
my knees. He also had a large blanket under him, which 
he preferred to keep there, rather than offer it to us. An- 
other gentleman of the same nation, on the right, had an 
umbrella, which he contrived to hold just so as to pour an 
additional torrent upon one of our company, never offering 
to share it with us. The poor fellows behind, and one for- 
ward, were as bad off as ourselves, except Mr. Red-coat, 
who bundled himself up with several cloaks and took it pa- 
tiently. There was not a passenger inside, and had not 
been all day. Six might have been shielded from the storm, 
perhaps, from sickness and untimely death. But to enter 
was not permitted, inasmuch as we had taken outside seats, 
and neither the driver nor the guard had any option in the 
case — we suppose they had not. Humanity is the boast 
of John Bull. This is an illustration of it. 



80 A SCENE AT MILLSTREET. 



MILLSTREET. 



At Millstreet we stopped a few minutes, and most of the 
passengers took a lunch. A loaf of bread, the shell of half 
a cheese and a huge piece of cold baked beef were set 
upon the table in the dirty bar-room. Each went and 
cut for himself, filling mouth, hands and pockets as he chose. 
Those who took meat paid a shilling ; for the bread and 
cheese, a sixpence. The Englishmen had their beer, the 
Irishmen their whiskey, the Americans cold water. Our 
party came out with hands full, but the host of wretches 
about the coach, who seemed to need it more than we, soon 
begged it all away from us, and then besought us, " Plase, sir, 
a ha'-penny, oond may God raward ye in heaven." A wo- 
man lifted up her sick child, in which was barely the breath of 
life, muttering, " Pray, yer honor, give me a mite for my 
poor childer, a single penny, oond may God save yer shoul." 
Several deformed creatures stationed themselves along the 
street, and shouted after us in the most pitiful tones. Oth- 
ers ran beside the coach for half a mile, yelling in the most 
doleful manner for a " ha'-penny," promising us eternal life 
if we would but give them one. 

We observed that the Englishmen gave nothing, but 
looked at them and spoke in the most contemptuous man- 
ner. We could not give to all, but our hearts bled for 
them. We may become more callous by a longer ac- 
quaintance with these scenes of destitution and misery; 
but at present the beauty of the Green Isle is greatly 
maiTed, and our journey, at every advance, made painful 
by the sight of such an amount of degradation and suf- 
fering. 

At one place, we saw a company of twenty or thirty 
men, women and children, hovering about the mouth of an 
old lime-kiln, to shelter themselves from the cold wind and 
rain. The driver pointed them out as a sample of what 
was common in these parts a year ago. As we approached, 



WRETCHEDNESS AND STARVATION. 81 

ascending a hill at a slow pace, about half of them came 
from the kiln, which stood in a pasture some rods from the 
road. Such lean specimens of humanity I never before 
thought the world could present. They were mere skele- 
tons, wrapped up in the coarsest rags. Not one of them 
had on a decent garment. The legs and arms of some were 
entirely naked. Others had tattered rags dangling down 
to their knees and elbows. And patches of all sorts and 
colors made up what garments they had about their bodies. 
They stretched out their lean hands, fastened upon arms of 
skin and bone, turned their wan, ghastly faces, and sunken, 
lifeless eyes imploringly up to us, with feeble words of en- 
treaty, which went to our deepest heart. The Englishmen 
made some cold remarks about their indolence and worth- 
lessness, and gave them nothing. 

I never regretted more sincerely my own poverty than 
in that hour. Such objects of complete destitution and 
misery ; such countenances of dejection and wo, I had not 
believed could be found on earth. Not a gleam of hope 
springing from their crushed spirits ; the pangs of poverty 
gnawing at the very fountains of their life. All darkness, 
deep, settled gloom ! Not a ray of light for them from any 
point of heaven or earth ! Starvation, the most horrid of 
deaths, staring them full in the face, let them turn whither 
they will. The cold grave offering their only relief, and 
that, perhaps, to be denied them, till picked up from the 
way-side, many days after death, by some stranger passing 
that way, who will feel compassion enough to cover up 
their mouldering bones with a few shovels-full of earth ! 

And this a christian country ! a part of the great empire 
of Great Britain, on whose domain the " sun never sets," 
boastful of its enlightenment, its liberty, its humanity, its 
compassion for the poor slaves of our land, its lively inter- 
est in whatever civilizes, refiness, and elevates mankind! 
Yet here in this beautifnl Island, formed bv nature with 
such superior advantages, more than a score of human be- 



82 GLORY WITHOUT MERIT. 

ings, shivering under the walls of a lirrie-kiln, and actually- 
starving to death ! 

Oh, England ! in thy rush for greatness, thou hast forgot- 
ten to be good ! Bedazzled with the glittering glory of thy 
armies and navies, thou hast neglected the sources of thy 
real strength ! Giddy in admiration of the tinseled trap- 
pings in which thou hast bedecked thy queen, and her royal 
bantlings and nobihty. thou hast become blind to the mise- 
ry which lies festering in thy bosom. Stunned and hoarse 
with the shoutings of thy own praise, thou art deaf to the 
voice of justice, humanity, and religion, and sufFerest thy 
own kinsmen to be wronged, insulted, cheated of the very 
sources of subsistence, and denied even the hope of re- 
demption ! What hast thou done — what art thou doing — 
for thy millions of true and loyal Irish subjects, whom thou 
hast subdued to thy authority! which is worthy a great 
and christian nation ? Talk not longer of thy humanity, 
of thy religion, of thy concern for poor slaves, thy keen 
sense of justice and right, whilst so many arc wronged, 
and wretched at home ! The world will not believe thee 
sincere nor honest, but cold and heartless in thy preten- 
sions, supremely selfish in the arrangement of th\^ public 
and domestic affairs, and anxious only to obtain a great 
name, without the trouble of deserving it ! 



CAUSES OF MISERY. 

But these Englishmen tell us " England has exhausted 
her ability and patience in attempts to improve the con- 
dition of Ireland ; that she can do no more ; Irishmen are 
a miserable race, destitute of enterprise, industry, and econ- 
omy ; lazy, suspicious, ungrateful ; hopelessly lost in their 
blind adherence to their old ways, and the superstitions of 
their religion." Is it so ? Can England conquer India, 
humble China, rule the sea, and regulate the commerce of 
the world, and not be able to devise and apply the means 
to improve the condition of so small a portion of her do- 



REMAINS. 83 

minions as Ireland ; to keep its inhabitants from beggary 
and starvation ? Then are her statesmen destitutue of the 
higher quaUties of real greatness — the knowledge and dis- 
position to do good — " to deal justly, love mercy, and walk 
humbly before God." 

I have not yet seen enough of this country to form a safe 
opinion of the causes of the misery and degradation we 
meet at every step, nor to suggest a remedy ; but so much 
wretchedness is not without a cause, for " the curse cause- 
less shall not come." It seems strange to me that the phi- 
losophers, and statesmen, and priests of religion, and polit- 
ical economists, and financiers, of which England boasts a 
full and honorable share should not have found out some 
method to apply its vast resources of practical knowledge, 
and active capital, and boasted philanthropy, to prevent the 
ignorance, and crime, and suffering, which prevail so ex- 
tensively in this region. 

They tell us " the famine, a visitation from God, which 
fell so severely upon this part of the Island, last year, was 
the principal cause of the misery we still see ; the failure 
of the potato crop, upon which many thousand depended 
for their subsistence, prevented those in possession of little 
properties from meeting their rents and taxes, and support- 
ing themselves !" Indeed ! That begins to let us into the 
seci'et. The rents and taxes must be paid to support land- 
lords in ease and luxury, and the government in its ability 
to oppress this and other nations, even though wives and 
children perish of starvation ! In default of payment the 
baliff is directed to distrain and take from the poor tenant 
the last resource of life and comfort, and then evict him, 
and send him out pennyless and ragged, to seek by beggary 
a chance to live, or a place to die. The country, it is said, 
is overstocked with laborers, and there is no chance left for 
this new reinforcement, and so they are compelled to wan- 
der about with the hosts of idlers, about whose indolence 
landlords and Englishmen prate so much. They can find 
nothing to do, and so they do nothing but beg or steal — 



84 ELEGANT DWELLINGS. 

the former failing to support life, we could hardly find it 
in our hearts to blame them for the latter * Their condi- 
tion is indeed deplorable. I never understood the depth 
of their miseries before. I shall hereafter feel more com- 
passion for the poor, ignorant, suspicious Irish, than I have 
ever felt for those who seek an asylum in our blessed land. 
Instead of blame and reproach, they deserve the sincerest 
pity for their untoward fate. They have been reduced to 
a state of dejection and helplessness from which it is im- 
possible for them to deliv^er themselves. 

But these are only our initiatory lessons, and I will for- 
bear any further reflections, till better informed concern- 
ing the causes of their pitiable condition. 

After winding out from the heather hills and mossy bogs, 
we came in full view of the Lakes of Killarney, the rough, 
jagged mountains on the south, and the beautiful plain be- 
fore us thickly studded with elegant mansions, fine fields, and 
copses of wood, spreading around to the north and west, 
with the town, embowered among trees, in the center of 
the valley. The clouds had lifted, and were resting upon 
the peaks of several mountains, and, here and there, patches 
of sunlight were darted on different spots in the landscape. 
It seemed to me there could not be found a more beautiful 
place on earth. I certainly do not recollect the sight of 
one in all my travels. Though dr&nched to my very skin, 
I was in raptures at the sight of such a lovely spot. 

Every thing was, doubtless, much enhanced by the cir- 
cumstances under which I viewed it. We had been trav- 
eling through a most desolate region, destitute, with here 

* In the once thriving town of Newcastle, in the county of Limerick, dur- 
ing the recent quarter sessions, there were over twelve hundred prisoners to be 
tried, and it occupied the court but three days to try them all. And why? 
Simply because they all plead guilty, in the hope of being detained in prison ; 
and two who were discharged were the next day accused of riot in an attempt 
to break into gaol. On his former visits the assistant-barrister had comfort- 
able lodgings in the town ; on the present occasion the offer of a guinea a-night 
could not procure him a bed, even in a cabin. All had fled from a rate ex- 
ceeding 20s. in the pound.— -Limerick Paper. 



HOTEL RUNNERS, 85 

and there a pitiful exception, of cultivation and inhabitants, 
and in a merciless storm, without any protection. We 
were wet, and cold, and hungry. The prospect of a com- 
fortable hotel, a cheerful fire, a change of clothing, and a 
decent dinner, awakened feelings and hopes which qualified 
us to enjoy the sudden surprise of such a moment. Be- 
sides, we had not expected to find such wild and romantic 
scenery in this country — such grand and lofty mountains, 
such sweet and silvery lakes, such taste and splendor 
in rural dwellings. Green fields, wretched hovels, and 
degraded people we had been accustomed to associate 
with the Emerald Isle, but not tall mountains, bend- 
ing forests, beautiful villas, and rural magnificence; es- 
pecially not in the west of Ireland. But here the eye 
rests, at a single glance, upon every variety of scene- 
ry — on mountain, lake, and vale ; on forest, glen, and 
meadow ; on pasture, heath, and garden ; on country, town, 
and villa ; on castle, church, and cottage ; on splendor, 
pride, and ruin ; on riches, want, and crime ; on coaches, 
carts, and rags ; on virtue, sin, and sorrow ; on honor, wit, 
and shame ; on every thing, which appears to be congre- 
gated here in distinct and forcible contrast. 

On winding into the town between rows of stately trees, 
which bordered the road on either side, and passing several 
elegant mansions, we came directly to the "King's Arms" 
hotel, before which a crowd of beggarly looking men and 
boys were collected, each crowding about the coach, anx- 
ious for a chance to serve us — or themselves by us. On 
dismounting as best we could, with our wet, stiff Hmbs, be- 
numbed with the cold, we fought our way through the 
motley group, in order to relieve ourselves, if possible, from 
their importunities. Some cried, " go to the Victoria ;" 
others cried, " Stay here, this is a good place." But we 
had resolved to go to " Muckruss Hotel," at Cloghereen, a 
mile or two out of the town, and near the Lakes. Every 
traveler should know where to stop before entering a strange 
town ; otherwise he may be sadly imposed upon ; for the 

8 



86 VIEW OF KILLARNEY. 

meanest taverns often have the most attractive names ; and 
there are not wanting runners to swear to any thing, enough 
to deceive, it' it were possible, those who had ah-eady elected 
places of abidance. 

We had intended to walk, in order to keep ourselves 
from taking cold, but finding a car in waiting, as it had 
come on to rain again, we accepted the invitation of the 
proprietor of the hotel, and rode. One of our party, less 
fortunate, had succeeded in getting out of the crowd, when 
he was surrounded by a lot of ragged boys, who fairly got 
hold of his valise and attempted to get it away from him, 
in order to earn two-pence by carrying it a mile or two. 
He had quite a wrangle with them, and spoke some sharp 
words in the free speech of our own country, which con- 
siderably alarmed our landlord, for he said they were a set 
of desperate fellows, who might severely injure him if he 
should excite their anger. We entreated him to desist, but 
he was manfully resolved to push his way through, and so 
we passed on without him. 

On the way we passed some truly splendid estates. The 
road is shaded by lofty trees, whose branches met in arches 
over us. High walls of cemented stones enclosed the rich 
fields, and handsome palings are about the large and elegant 
mansions, which stand some rods from the road, in the 
midst of delicious shade trees, and surrounded by beautiful 
lawns, bounded by graveled walks, beds of flowers, or haw- 
thorn hedges, winding fantastically through the groves in all 
directions. 

The sumptuousness of these dwellings contrasted fearfully 
with the ragged specimens of poverty and misery we had 
just seen, in the town. There was such a scene of human 
wretchedness as was never looked on in our country, ex- 
cept, perhaps, on the first arrival of a load of Irish emi- 
grants, while here are such proofs of aristocratic taste and 
ability, as American eyes have not been wont to look upon, 
not even along the banks of the Hudson or Delaware, or 
our Irrge cities. The extremes meet here, and present a 



CLOGHEREEN. 87 

sad commentary upon the institutions of this wronged and 
unhappy country. 



CLOGHEREEN. 

A good turf fire, built in a grate Hke those used for coal 
in our country, a change of clothing, and some plain re- 
freshments, genteelly served, restored our drooping spirits, 
and made us feel quite at home at Roche's Hotel. 

In an hour, the rain -having subsided, we were ready to 
beghi our excursions. The servant, who was quite intelli- 
gent, finding that we were from America, became devoted 
in his attentions to us, making a thousand inquiries about 
the chances of getting a living, the best places and best 
business to make a support for himself and family. He 
told us of his friends who had emigrated, his plans to raise 
funds to pay his own passage ; the extent of misery and 
starvation which had prevailed, and of which he had been 
a witness the year before. He made our hearts bleed by 
his recital. He described scenes of suffering and death too 
horrid to be believed, and which we could not credit but 
for the testimony of other witnesses. It was in this region, 
and to the south, about Skibbereen, and to the north in Gal- 
way county, that the famine prevailed most severely. 

He said he had visited houses where two or three lay 
dead, and several others were in the last stages of starva- 
tion. Many were found dead in the highways and in the 
fields. He mentioned one case, of a body which lay un- 
buried by the road-side, till a notice of it had been sent to 
America and returned in the newspapers. Some times 
bodies lay for weeks unburied. It was a fearful time. 
Thousands more would have died, he assured us, but for 
the timely arrival of food sent out from our country. He 
spoke with the deepest feeling of gratitude of the generous 
conduct of our countrymen, which aflforded them so much 
relief in the time of their terrible suflferings, and of the im- 
mense debt due from their oountrv to ours, which God onlv 



88 nation's honor. 

could repay us. He spoke of the effect our benefactions 
had produced upon all classes, which was so great that even 
those who had derided us, and sneered at our institutions and 
habits, had changed their manners, and now commended us 
in the highest terms. 

Mr. Roche, the gentlemanly proprietor of the house, 
confirmed, in still stronger terms, all his servant had told 
us ; and we lacked no evidence, from the highest to the 
lowest, from the rich and noble to the humblest laborers and 
poorest beggars, to establish our conviction that our charity 
had not been thrown away, but that our bread which had 
been cast over the waters would return after not many 
days. How much more glorious is a victory thus gained 
over the prejudices and hatred of an arrogant and hostile 
nation, than one won by the sword in battle ! What 
grander sight could we exhibit to the view of nations, than 
to return the Macedonian, a ship-of-war taken from England 
in a fight unjustly waged, to impress our seamen and crip- 
ple our young commerce, laden with the charities of our 
free and bountiful soil, to feed her starving miUions, of whose 
welfare she has been so sadly neglectful ? 

Let others carp about the indignity to Britain's sense of 
honor ; of the offence to her national pride. No matter ! 
It is an offence which ought to come — a rebuke which she 
should receive — one she needed, to teach her the lessons of 
justice and religion, and make her see the necessity of lend- 
ing her energies and vast resources to some better service 
than conquest and oppression. Kindness kills. It has 
been so in this case. The reward of our goodness is not 
only felt at home, in the sweet consciousness of having 
done a noble and generous act, discharged a Christian 
duty, but every traveler receives it in the encomiums be- 
stowed upon his country, and in the attentions shown him 
by those who have hearts to feel the force of such a prac- 
tical illustration of disinterested benevolence. We have 
already received many attentions on account of our na- 
tionality, and not a few on the score of our supposed 



SIR RICHARD COURTENAY. 89 

wealth. Every body seems to think that Americans are 
all rich, that none are poor ; and, therefore, we are beset 
the more resolutely by the wretched beings whom we 
meet. 

I have been astonished to see with what facility our 
English companions keep clear of them. I can not tell 
why it is, that we should be so constantly importuned by 
beggars, while none come near them. They are better 
dressed than we, and make a greater display. Yet, while 
scores of ragged, half-naked, starved creatures, with sunken 
eyes and cadaverous faces, are hanging about us, they es- 
cape unmolested, and seem to be totally indifferent to these 
pictures of human misery. I almost envy them their 
equanimity under such circumstances. I do believe the 
leanness of our pockets will compel us to disown our coun- 
try, and play the Englishman — a downfall to which we 
never thought to be reduced. I mean in that particular 
hauteur of manner which forbids the approach of the poor 
and needy. 

Being ready to commence our rambles, the servant in- 
troduced to us Sir Richard Courtenay, the famous guide to 
all the interesting localities about the lakes and mountains 
of Kiliarney. We received him with all due formality, as 
it had been intimated to us that to humor his vanity, and 
speak of his noble ancestry, would render him peculiarly 
useful and interesting. He immediately informed us that 
he was descended, through Lords Courtenay and Earls of 
Desmond, from a noble stock, which was a branch of the 
Royal family of France, and in some way connected, by 
his maternal pedigree, with the house of Constinople! His 
more immediate ancestors were knighted, by some of the 
English kings, and held, for a long period, a distinguished 
baronetcy in this part of the realm ; but by revolutions, 
civil wars, and other misfortunes, the property had been 
lost and only the title, only the poorest part, was left for 
him. He could talk Celtic, recite Latin, and quote poetry. 
He possessed a fair share of Irish wit and humor, but 



90 A SALES-WOMAN. 

showed a vein of sadness in all he said and did. He was 
full of anecdote, could locate every legend, and answer, 
without hesitation, every question asked him. All showed 
him the utmost respect, and invariaby addressed him as Sir 
Richard. 

He is a small, lean, dapper man, dressed in corduroy 
breeches, an old-fashioned, long, blue coat, with metal but- 
tons, a grayish vest, and wide straight collar. His slouched 
hat and heavy nailed shoes completed his outward embel- 
lishments, all of which must have looked better two years 
ago than at present. He might be fifty, perhaps sixty ; for 
time and circumstance had done for him considerable work, 
leaving traces behind. Still he retained a full quantum of 
vivacity ; except he had a bad phthisic, which retarded his 
movements somewhat in ascending steep places, and 
troubled him in damp weather. Such was the Knight we 
took for our cicerone to the romantic scenery of Killarney. 

We found at the door a " lady-in-waiting," with a large 
box of curious trinkets, useful and ornamental, manufac- 
tured from Arbutus wood. She had followed us from the 
town, in much haste, in order to pre-engage our custom, 
before we had committed ourselves to rival establishments, 
but, from respect to our position, had not dared enter the 
house, or even ask for us. She had work-boxes, needle- 
books, nut-crackers, folding-knives, and a host of nice arti- 
cles " too numerous to mention," all of which displayed the 
peculiar beauties of the wood and exquisite workman- 
ship. We had not looked for such delicate skill in a popu- 
lation generally so ignorant and degraded. Much of the 
work was really very fine, and she assured us her husband 
had larger and more elegant pieces at his store. Her man- 
ner was exceedingly modest. She looked neat, and ap- 
peared intelligent. We accepted her card, and promised 
to call when we went to the village, and look at her wares 
in prefererce to any others that might be offered. She ap- 
peared well pleased with her success, and departed. 

Our fii'st excursion was to the Turk waterfall, a mile or 



I 



UNEXPECTED COMPANY. 91' 

more distant, not far from the Kenmare road. Not many- 
rods from the hotel, three women joined us, and kept close 
by all the way. They were dressed in very plain clothing, 
with coarse kerchiefs over their heads, and nothing on their 
feet. Two of them wei^e of very decent appearance — 
young, fair, and well proportioned ; but the third was 
larger, older, and uglier. Her features were exceedingly 
unbeautiful. We at first supposed they came to beg ; but 
they asked for nothing, and yet followed us. We asked 
Sir Richard the reason of this unexpected acquisition to 
our party. His only reply was that they had come to ac-i» 
company us and give us refreshment. He chatted freely 
with them, but in a dialect we could not understand. We 
were greatly perplexed, and not a little annoyed by their 
presence ; not knowing what all this might mean. 

After passing a few poor, and one or two decent houses, 
we came to some rich grounds on our right, between the 
road and the lake, laid out into beautiful shady walks, 
amidst a thrifty plantation, or occupied for a kitchen gar- 
den, belonging to the demesne of Mr. Herbert, whose ele- 
gant mansion stands upon the shore of the lake. Roads 
which enter through handsome gateways, a mile apart, on the 
main road, guarded by porter's lodges, lead by the mansion. 
On the left of the road is an open wild wood, of young, 
slim firs, which extends far up the side of Turk mountain. 
For several rods there is a low wall on the wood side, with 
a gate near the little rivulet, which is kept locked. On 
reaching the gate we were bidden to wait till the little girl, 
who had been trotting ahead of us, should return from the 
porter's lodge, to which she had gone to gain for us permis- 
sion to visit the Falls. Soon she returned, accompanied by 
a fat woman, who said something lo Sir Richard in Celtic, 
and then unlocked the gate. She spoke sharply to the wo- 
men who came along with us, and they remained behind. 

A few rods from the road we were shown a Cedar of 
Lebanon, a small tree, not over ten inches in diameter and 
thirtv feet in height. Sir Richard said it was descended 



92 



from seeds brought by the crusaders and was revered as a 
rare and curious specimen of the godly zeal and noble hero- 
ism of the most royal knights who served in those holy 
wars. It is enclosed by a rail fence to protect it from sac- 
rilegious touch, and the beaten ground about it shows that 
our worthy guide had some foundation for what he said. 

A little way further we came to the foot of a very pretty 
cascade. A small rivulet, much swollen by the late rains, 
issues from a deep ravine overhung by bending firs, and 
plunges down a rough ledge of precipitous rocks, seventy or 
eighty feet, in foaming fury. Every thing about it is wild 
and romantic, and, to one unfamiliar with such scenery, it 
presents an object of novelty and admiration. For us it 
had few attractions. The glens of our mountain forests 
contain innumerable cascades of superior grandeur and 
beauty. 

By a winding path we ascended to the summit of a little 
rounded hill which overlooks the falls. A small patch has 
been cleared of bushes and furnished with rude benches for 
the accommodation of visitors. From this spot we enjoyed 
a view of one of the finest landscapes we ever beheld. I 
doubt if many more beautiful can be found in the world. 
Almost every variety of scenery is beheld at a single glance. 
On the south stretches a long range of mountains, crowned 
with lofty peaks, and broken into various shapes by nar- 
row gaps and deep glens which furrow their dark and 
heathy sides. On the left is Mangerton, whose gentle ac- 
clivity and boggy summit, covered with brown heather and 
disconnected rocks, contrasts finely with the wooded cone 
of Turk from which it is separated by a narrow valley 
through which winds the old road to Kenmare, and down 
which rushes, impetuously, the little rivulet which has its 
origin in the Devil's Punch Bowl — called the Styx, and forms 
at our feet the Turk waterfall. 

Then the low glen up which runs the present road to 
Kenmare and Glengariflf, and down which flows the waters 
of the Upper Lake. Next, the Purple mountain, or Long 



PICTURESaUE SCENERY. 93 

Range, whose northern base, densely wooded, I'ises gloomily 
up from the very waters of the Lakes, its sides covered with 
shrubs thickh' matted and whose summit is crowned with the 
naked peaks of the Glena and Toomies. Beyond are seen 
McGillicuddy's Reeks, which stand as so many attendants, 
forming a body guard around his imperial Highness, Carraiv 
TuAL, the tallest of Irish mountains. A little to the right 
stretch along the undulating Brandon and Tralee moun- 
tains which fade away in the distance towards the ocean. 

Fi'om the west to the north-east is spread out a most 
beautiful tract which gently ascends, forming a magnifi- 
cent amphitheater checkered by a thousand little fields of 
varying hues and dotted all over with humble dwellings and 
elegant villas, shaded with lofty trees, and adorned with 
delightful flower gardens. In the bottom of this basin are 
the silvery Lakes of Killarney, gemmed with innumerable 
islets, on whose placid bosom, are mirrored the shadows of 
the adjacent mountains, and woody shores 

From the midst of a thick foliage on one of the islands, 
towers up in gruff" and solemn dignity like an old man among 
his grand-children, the ivyed walls and gray battlements of 
Ross Castle. Just beyond are the crumbling walls of an 
old monastery, on Innisfallen ; nearer by, on the main land, 
embowered among trees is the venerable ruin of Muckrus 
Abbey, the finest in the kingdom. To the right, above the 
lakes is seen the village of Killarney, which, at this distance, 
has a beautiful and picturesque appearance ; its lofty spire, 
lone tower, and shady suburbs add greatly to the complete- 
ness of the picture. 

The grandeur of this most charming scenery was greatly 
enhanced, at the moment we first looked upon it, by the 
brilliant reflection of the sweet rays of the setting sun. 
The day had been rainy, and dark clouds still hung about 
like the curtains of approaching night. Along the west the 
dark veil had been brushed away, for the sun to take a fare- 
well look of this beautiful world, before going to his rest on 
the bosom of the broad Atlantic. Soon his glaring face 



94 A BEAUTIFUL SUN-SET. 

was screened from our view by the Brandon hills, behind 
which he hasted to go down ; but left his brightest beams to 
fringe the borders of the cloudy panoply in gorgeous scarlet, 
which now hung about the heavens like the draping of day. 
In a moment more the whole seemed changed, and what 
was so brilliant began to take on a sombre hue, as despair 
returns when newly-awakened hopes are fled. 

We had gazed in the profoundest admiration upon the 
singular variety and grandeur of this magnificent landscape, 
till Sir Richard had sufficiently regained his pulmonary 
powers to enable him to exhibit his intimate knowledge of 
all the legends and localities of this romantic region. As 
soon as his asthma had subsided, he commenced, in his 
peculiar and attractive style, his peroration to a very 
minute description of nearly every object within the range 
of our vision ; naming every mountain, hill, and glen ; every 
streamlet, copse and island, every castle, cave and cottage ; 
every villa, church and mansion, forgetting in no case to 
couple with everything described, all the stories and legends, 
ancient and modern, real or traditionary, probable or ficti- 
tious. No poet ever recited the dreams of his imagination 
\vith a truer zest ; no orator ever burned with more impas- 
sioned eloquence, than Sir Richard on that occasion ; and 
few were ever listened to with profounder attention. He omit- 
ted nothing, not even himself, and the part he had borne in 
many wonderful and ludicrous incidents and accidents which 
had occurred in all that region for the last thirty years to 
the thousands who had come here from all parts of the 
world to spend a few days or weeks, in revelling amid 
the beauties and pleasures of this wild and attractive 
scenery. 

The enchantment of that hour I can never forget. An 
impression was made which no time can erase from my 
memory. It was one of those lonely spots which always 
enchant us, and which we gaze upon with peculiar delight. 
And I thought of home, and friends far over the sea — scenes 



MOUNTAIN DEW. 95 

more dear than this, and my prayer went up to Heaven for 
the beauties of peace to be upon them all. 

As the gray twilight began to steal over the earth, we 
descended. On approaching the road we took a path which 
leads directly from the falls to the road, without passing 
through the gate of the wall by which we had entered. 
Sir Richard called us back, that we might not forget the 
porteress who had opened the gate — of which there was no 
necessity, for we could have gone to the falls without en- 
countering any obstacle and saved considerable in the dis- 
tance. But these people are poor, and any stratagem to 
get a few pennies to keep themselves from starvation is not 
exactly extortion. All helps them to employment. The 
building of a wall ten rods long, disconnected at both ends, 
with a gate in the centre, with an object of curiosity be- 
yond, is no worse than some other speculations greater men 
have entered into. It makes business for the old woman, 
and the little girl who goes for her, and Sir Richard and the 
landlord, who, as they ought, have fellow-feeling for their 
countrymen. It is lawful to adopt a protective system for 
self, even though it be at others expense. Such is the theory 
of governments ; why not of individuals ? 

The moment we had discharged the old woman, who 
showed little gratitude for our donation, we were beset 
by the girls who had accompanied us, to " dhrink soome 
gooat's malk and moounthain dew which coome froom the 
back of Mangerton," offering us a common earthern tea- 
cup, and holding out a wooden mug. I took a cup from 
one, when the others started for my friends, each selecting 
her man. 

" What may this mountain dew be ?" asked I. 

" Faix, sir, an' ye moost be dhry afther so lang a walk ; 
an' we thooght we'd bes afther fetchin' the gintilmin soome 
moounthain dew, and goat's milk." 

" Yes, yes ; but what is it ? What is it good for ?" 

" Sure, an' 'twill rist ye, an' ye'll fale all the bether foor 
it, an' kape ye froom takin' coold, it will." 



96 A SURPRISE. 

Upon this she poured some milk into the cup, and then 
unstopped a small, square glass bottle, from which she was 
about to pour something. I asked, 

" What is that — poison ?" 

" Not the divil a bit of it. It's the pure moounthain dew 
froom behind Mangerton ; an' ye'll not remimber a bit o' 
what ye've seen, without ye dhrink it." 

" Well, then, pour in a little, for I would not forget the 
views of the past hour for a fortune. I may never ' look 
on the like again.' " 

" Sure, an' ye're a nice gintilmin." 

She poured some from her flask into the milk, and I 
tasted it. 

" Oh, you blessed woman ! what have you done ? You. 
have given me whiskey. What shall I do ? What will 
Father Mathew, whose pledge I signed last night, say to 
me ? He will never pardon me this sin as long as I live." 

" Nivir a bit will ye be the woorse foor it, an' God hilp 
ye, sir. Ye's no nade to faare he'll ivir find it oout, at all, 
at all." 

" But what if I should confess to him that I had broken 
the pledge ?" 

" Oh, the divil — git soome oother confissor, who doont 
care if a gintilmin dhrinks abito'potcheen, noo and thin." 

" That will never do. And besides, you have deceived 
me. You told me it was mountain dew, when it is whis- 
key." 

She seemed a little frightened by the manner in which I 
said this, colored considerably, and looked down. At length 
she replied in a different tone, as if fearful she had offended 
me. 

Oh, sir, it's made joost back o' Mangerton, an' we call it 
the moounthain dew." 

" But I fear you have dipped it from the Devil's Punch 
Bowl, which Sir Richard says lies upon Mangerton, where 
the O'Donoghue used to hold conferences with his dark 
majesty, and pledge himself to his service with a glass of 



SENTIMENT. 97 

punch. If I had taken much of it, 1 am sure it would play 
the devil with me, as it has with thousands of others." 

" Nivir a bit o' harm will it be afther doin' ye. 'Twill 
kape ye waarm, an' do ye good, an' make ye kape in 
mimory all ye huv sane, it will." 

Taking warning by my discovery one of our party re- 
fused to taste either the goat's milk or mountain dew, 
though most earnestly beset to do so. They thought him a 
strange mortal, and entered a very solemn protest against 
the mistake and folly of Father Mathew and the temper- 
ance cause. It seemed to them, doubtless, as it has to a 
thousand others, that it is a meddlesome interference vi^ith 
their vocation to dissuade people from buying their need- 
less and pernicious stuff, from the sale of which they make 
an honest living ! 

Neither of these young women could read or write, and 
one of them could not speak the English language. Their 
conversation was carried on in Celtic. On our way back, 
they sang us several songs in their native dialect, which 
Sir Richard interpreted for our better understanding. The 
airs were very fine, and, heard in the stillness of the forest 
glen, at the twilight hour, and under circumstances to us 
so novel and romantic, produced in us peculiar and inde- 
scribable emotions. The sentiment of their songs was less 
edifying, but served to give us some knowledge of their 
habits of thought and manner of life. They were love 
ditties, or romantic tales of pledged affections, broken vows, 
pining love, or speedy retribution. The character of their 
heroes was always that of courage in fight, or on the sea, 
and the highest achievement the possession of wealth and 
successful love. Faithlessness to plighted love was marked 
with the severest retributions, while painful constancy was 
most highly praised. 

There was a meekness and simplicity in their manners, 
and such apparent sincerity and truthfulness ♦in all they 
said, that we became very much interested in them. They 
made many inquiries about our country, and expressed the 

9 



98 A NEW COMEK. 

strongest desire to find an opportunity to remove to it. 
The only obstacle was the want of means. They were 
ready to leave their parents, and friends, and country, at 
any moment, if they could but go to " Amiriky." They 
offered to work for us a whole year if we would pay their 
fare ; and would start off alone, or go with us when we 
should return. Before leaving us we gave them a shilling 
a-piece, with which -they seemed much pleased, and were 
very inquisitive to know the plan of our visits. They said 
if we went to the Gap of Dunloe and the Reeks, they 
would meet us there. They lived, we learned, near the 
town, and had come four miles for the chance of serving 
us with a little milk and whiskey, and now offered to go 
eight or ten miles to serve us again. 

On returning we found our lady of the Arbutus work 
still in waiting, and another, younger, handsomer, and more 
talkative, along with her. We learned that she had re- 
turned half way to the town, when she met this legate of a 
rival establishment, and, fearing she would persuade us to 
forget our pledge to patronize her, she returned to keep an 
eye upon her own prospective interests. The new comer 
was really very handsome, and withal prettily dressed, 
lively and witty, which excited, in no small degree, the sus- 
picion of her rival, because it attracted more attention to 
her wares, for the sake of her pleasing conversation. 

The servant took me aside, and advised that we should 
patronize the first in preference, representing, with Irish 
positiveness, that her wares were much better and cheaper ; 
that she had come first, and had a right to our custom ; 
that the last was an interloper, and had no business to come 
here. He showed a good deal of feeling, and tried to en- 
list Sir Richard on his side. But the Knight retained a 
respectful and dignified indifference, refusing to give a pre- 
ference when we referred to him as umpire. The amuse- 
ment became tiresome, and we retired to onr chamber, to 
enjoy the luxury of one of the neatest and best beds we 
ever laid our weary limbs upon. 



SCENERY. 99 



CHAPTER V. 

KILL ARNEY. 

A Rural Dwelling. — National Schools. — Ascent of Mangerton. — A Retiuue. 
— Mary. — Favor. — Devil's Punch Bowl. — Bachelors' Spring. — Mountain 
Bog. — A Splendid View. — The Descent. — The Lakes. — Dinas Island. — 

Glena. Innisf'allen. Ross Castle. — Lord Keninare. — The Town — 

Dinner. 

May 20. — We took an early ramble through the hamlet 
of Clo2;hereen, and back amono; the cabins, a few miles. 
The sky was clear and bright. The sun was just rising 
above the lofty range of mountains. Every thing in na- 
ture was calm and beautiful. The air was pure and deh- 
cious. The wide-spread and richly variegated scenery was 
painted in the fairest hues of a delightful spring morning. 
Numerous birds were caroling their sweetest lays, which 
mingled harmoniously with the silent beauties of that hour, 
in a grand cantata of eloquent praise to the wise and good 
Father, and Preserver of all things. 

It seemed to me that no part of earth had been more be- 
nevolently cared for than this ; that no where was there a 
richer profusion of natural blessings, a stricter adaptation 
of all the means of human enjoyment to the great end of 
man's existence — the attainment of virtue, tranquility, and 
happiness. The eye could revel amid beauty and grandeur 
without limit ; the ear was charmed with the music of 
birds; and the aroma borne on the passing zephyr added 
to the delights of such an hour. 

But when I looked for the finishing adornment of such a 
scene, for the sparkling gems of moral and intellectual 
beauty ; for the refinement, comfort, and social equality and 
prosperity which should find a home in the midst of this 
profusion of rural magnificence and splendor, my vision re- 
turned to me the burdens of wrong, and my heart was 
made sad. Tears started to my eyes, and a sigh came in- 
voluntarily from my lips, which contrasted strangely with 



100 A peasant's abode. 

the sparkling dew-drops trembling on every leaf, and the 
music warbled to every breeze. The words of one of 
England's sweetest poets rushed — a little altered — upon 
my memory : — 

" What though delicious breezes 

Blow o'er the Emerald Isle, 
And every prospect pleases, 

While only man is vile : 
In vain with lavish kindness. 

The gifts of God are strewn, 
The people, in their blindness. 

Bow down to Britain's throne." 

We called at the door of the best looking cottage, simply 
to ascertain how these poor people live. It was built of 
stone, laid up like a rough cellar wall, in common mortar, 
without any plaster inside. The outside had been white- 
washed with lin)e at some former period ; we judged from 
the patches left in the sheltered places. The roof was 
thatched with straw. There was but one room, perhaps 
fifteen by twenty feet, in the building, one door, and two 
small windows without glass. The floor was the cold 
ground, clayed over with a thin layer, which was broken 
through in several places. A coarse frame, serving for a 
bedstead, stood in one corner, and some ragged cloth- 
ing lay upon it. Another pile, in the form of a bed, lay 
upon the ground close by it. Two old broken chairs, a 
small bench — on which sat a little girl, with a child in her 
arms — an unpainted table and a large chest constituted the 
rest of the furniture. There were a few garments hung 
about the room, looking common and dirty. There were 
no floor nor cross beams over head. The pointed rafters, 
ribbed so as to sustain the layers of straw, formed the ceil- 
ing, all black with smoke, which had not escaped so readily 
as could have been wished through the little aperture in the 
ridge of the roof near the east gable. The culinary uten- 
sils consisted of an iron pot, teakettle, frying pan, and a 
wooden bucket or pail, with one stave higher than the rest 



POVERTY IN HOPE. 101 

and rounded for a handle, stood on the ground near an open 
dresser, which displayed five plates, one or two teacups and 
saucers, a wooden noggin, and, il might be, half a dozen 
other articles. This was all the furniture the house con- 
tained, except a spade, with a long handle, standing in one 
corner, and an old basket near the fire-place. 

When we entered, a woman was squatted down by a 
bunch of peat, with which she w'as kindling a fire on the 
floor beside the wall, and under the aperture before men- 
tioned. There were no jambs, no hearth, no chimney, 
nothing but the ground and three stones, so placed that a 
kettle could rest on them and be over the fire. She rose 
as we entered. We told her whence we came, and the ob- 
ject of our visit — to learn how Irish people lived at home. 

" Indade, an' we git aloong boot poorly. My man bes 
oout o' wark these moony days, an' the poor childers, as ye 
sees, bes ragged, an' ofthen cry for praties. Boot we're 
bether as how we was last yare, foor then we coome nare 
stharvin'. An' Amiriky bes a blissid coounthry, where 
ye've ivery thing to ate, an' tha childers nade noot be afther 
cry in' foor hoonger. Tha good Lord bliss us, an' we hoope 
to ba afther goin' till yer blissid coounthry in another yare 
moore, so an' tha times bes goode." 

We asked her if her husband could not find employment. 

" Rare a bit duz he be afther gittin' ofthen. He warks 

foor Misther , in Cloghereen, an' pays foor the rints, 

an' tha pasthurin' foor tha gooats, an' he gits a litthle moore 
than to pay the cess. Tha Lord huv marcy oon us, an' 
prootict us froom stharvin', as moony aboot heres did last 
yare." 

We inquired about her family, how many children she had, 
whether they went to school, what they learned, and what 
she expected to do with them, and many other things 
which served to give us some insight into the domestic con- 
dition, habits, and prospects of these poor families. She 
answered all our inquiries readily, and seemed to consider 
it no impertinence on our part. In her personal appearance, 

9* 



102 HUMAN SUFFERING. 

if properly dressed, she would pass for a very handsome 
woman. She might be thirty years old, has three children, 
all puny little creatures, made so by insufficient and un- 
wholesome food. Then- clothes were nothing but a chemise 
hung loosely about their lean bodies, giving no protection 
to their limbs further than their knees and elbows. It was 
a picture of stark poverty such as I have never beheld in 
our country. We spoke some words of comfort and hope 
and left a small benefaction, for which we received many 
thanks and prayers to heaven for a prosperous journey and 
a safe return. 

As we left that humble cot, and gazed again on the beau- 
ties of that delicious morning, we could not restrain a sigh 
for the misery and degradation of fallen humanity, nor with- 
hold a feeling of mingled pity and contempt for those who 
suffer and those who inflict these wrongs upon God's chil- 
dren. There is something sadly out of joint in the social 
relations of the world. Christianity has, so far, signally 
failed to produce that warm and generous sympathy which 
should induce its professors to " bear one anothers' burdens," 
to feed the poor, clothe the naked, visit the sick, and pro- 
vide for strangers. And no where have I seen wit, and 
wealth, and beauty, so fearfully contrasted with ignorance, 
poverty, and shame as here. Never before have I seen hu- 
manity so crushed and fallen, beneath the iron hoof of op- 
pression. 

Tell me not of the slaves of my own country. They are 
wronged and degraded enough, heaven knows. But they 
do not starve, and in their warm climate rarely freeze. Here 
they both starve and freeze, and yet are free. Free ? 
Free for what ? Free to live in ignorance, poverty, and 
shame, or to die of starvation ! They are not free to till 
the soil : not free to work for a recompense ; not free to kill 
the hare to keep it from their cabbage-fields, or to keep the 
wife and children from the horrors of starvation. Call 
this liberty ? It is the liberty to be a slave, to be wretched 
and to die of hunger. 



EDUCATION WANTED. 



103 



But the patronizing government has done something for 
these poor creatures. It has built a few national school 
houses, it has established work-houses, and extensive bar- 
racks for the accommodation of soldiers, and police stations 
for the employment of young men to watch the people ; 
and large jails for all sorts of offenders ; and it has enacted 
laws so stringent, in the imposition of taxes to support all 
these establishments, that ordinary farmers are made poor, 
or kept so by the exorbitant rents and taxes upon what little 
property they may possess. It is as well to have nothing 
as a small estate, for landlords and publicans soon reduce 
both to an equality. And even the rich complain most bit- 
terly that their properties are encumbered with intolerably 
enormous taxations, which will soon make them poor. 

Not far from the cabin where we called there is a coarse 
stone building on which is written " National School," but 
it compares unfavorably with the common school houses of 
our country. It is a cold, heavy, bleak-looking building. 
There is nothing attractive about it. It looks more like an 
old dilapidated church, or county jail than a place for young 
and ardent minds to acquire knowledge. But I was glad to 
see it there. The simple words " National School," is a re- 
buke to the ignorance that so extensively abounds, and when 
they are made free, so that the poor can be educated, will 
prove to be the great bulwarks of freedom, religion, and 
happiness. At present, not half the people can afford to 
send their children at all ; and very few more than two or 
three months, for a certain sum has to be paid for every 
child which attends. This the poor can not raise ; so their 
children grow up in ignorance. 

Talk of oppressive taxes, the burden upon the rich, or 
the inability of the government to furnish funds for educa- 
tion, as much as they will, one thing is certain, the condition 
of Ireland can never be really improved till the people are 
educated. And as England would be honorable and just, 
she owes it to the oppressed people of Ireland to give them 
this boon. There is wealth enough among the higher 



i04 



AMERICA. 



classes to send abroad the schoolmaster with the lessons 
of wisdom, sufficient to enlighten, warm, and renovate this 
depressed and miserable country. Think of the millions 
squandered by the rich who are non-residents, who live in 
splendor and worthlessness in London or on the continent, 
who keep large tracts of land unproductive, for hunting 
grounds, and come here once in two or three years to amuse 
themselves a week or two with field sports, and, leave the 
people to die in ignorance and misery ! 

What are " National Schools" more than a name under 
such regulations as these. We had to struggle long in our 
own land before the rich could understand why they should 
assist to educate the children of the poor. And even now 
some States do not admit the doctrine, and in none are the 
highest rooms of learning open to the poor. A young man 
must have wealth before he can graduate with the honors 
of a college. Thousands of the brightest genius of our 
country are doomed to years of severe toil to acquire the 
knowledge which wealth bestows, on easy terms, upon its 
favorites. But so far as common schools — the just pride of 
America — are concerned, we are far in advance of Great 
Britain. They are the defences of our free institutions, 
stronger than walls and fortresses, and mightier than armies 
and navies. Ireland never can be redeemed, nor England 
be truly free, noble and glorious, without them. 



ASCENT OF MANGERTON. 

After breakfast the ponies we had ordered, were brought 
to the door, and each made his selection and mounted. 
The two Englishmen joined our company, making five in 
all. Sir Richard was in attendance, staflf in hand, ready 
for the ascent. I said to him, "Is your honor to go on 
foot ? That will never do. You are too old, too infirm, 
and of too honorable extraction to be reduced to such toil. 
Besides that asthma might come on and deprive us of your 



A PONY RIDE. 105 

excellent company, and vast fund of information. Go, get 
yourself a pony and it will cost us but a trifle a-piece." 

It did us good to see the effect of this speech. Sir Richard 
cheered up in an instant, ordered his pony, mounted and sat 
upright with as much dignity as if he had been the Duke of 
WeUins;ton. With his little brass horn he sounded the 
command and started on before our cavalcade. A dozen 
men and boys had been hanging about the hotel, begging 
the privilege to go up with us and hold our horses. We had 
denied all ; but half of them started of in hot pursuit ; and 
on our way we found several had gone in advance. 

Sir Richard led the van for some distance, I noticed, in 
ascending up a steep ascent, several women started out 
from behind the masses of rocks and spoke to him. On 
the plain, part way up the mountain, occupied as a pasture 
for cows, horses, and sheep, there are several rude huts 
scattered about, more miserable than the one before described. 
Some of them are destitute of gardens, fences, trees, and 
every thing ; standing out solitary and alone in the rocky 
pasture. The business of the inmates is, to tend the flocks and 
take care of the dairies ; to work in the bog, cutting, drying and 
carting the turf; or to labor in the town upon the farms of the 
landlords. Some of the women knit stockings and spin 
yarn, which they sell at the fairs. In the summer the 
young women and boys make quite a business by following 
visitors to the top of the mountain, or about to the distant 
places visited by strangers, to hold their horses and furnish 
them with "goat's milk and mountain dew." This is, in 
common times, by far the most profitable employment they 
can find. The girls are furnished with a clean wooden 
mug, in which they carry milk, an earthen cup which serves 
for a cover to the milk, and a tumbler to drink from, and a 
small square flask for the whiskey. 

On attaining the first eminence we were beset by a flock 
of these girls, who carried their mugs under a coarse cover, 
but held them out to us, half a dozen speaking at once, and 
all urging us to drink. We refused, trying to put them off 



106 UNEXPECTED COMPANY. 

till our return. We could not drive them away till they 
saw another coming, when they forsook us and laid siege 
to him. We cantered our ponies briskly over the plain, 
thinking to outrun these annoyances of girls and boys, who 
were so very anxious to do us service. But on ascending 
the next height we found ourselves waylaid by another set, 
as earnest in their efforts to promote our happiness as the 
former. We really might have thought ourselves much hon- 
ored by these attentions, had it not been so obvious that 
some other feeling than respect or gratitude moved them to 
bestow on us such marked attentions. We asked Sir Ri- 
chard what was to be done, how we should meet these nu- 
merous demands upon our gallantry. He could give us no 
directions, point out no way of escape, so we resolved to 
make the annoyance as light as possible. I accepted from 
one, the most intelligent, a cup of milk. She wanted me 
to promise not to receive any from any other, as she would 
serve me better than they could. I now saw the meaning 
of what I did not understand before — why the girls yester- 
day, and those we met this morning, wanted us to engage 
them to go to the top of Mangerton. And, on inquiry, I 
found there was a good deal of opposition in this business, 
which sometimes leads to severe fights between ihe daugh- 
ters of the mountain and those of Cloghereen, and Killar- 
ney. A sort of tacit agreem.ent prevails that any one en- 
gaged had, of course, the right of protection. I told Mary 
I hardly dared make her the promises she asked, lest she 
should forsake me and go to serve the Englishmen, who 
looked smarter. 

" Niver a bit, I'll do it ; that I wont ; not if yer honor 'U 
take noo milk nor potheen froom iny ither boot meself," she 
said, with a modest courtesy. 

" But the women are apt to be treacherous and faithless, 
are they not ?" 

" Upoon my shoul, an I'll not be afther giving a sangle 
dhropto imiy gintilmin boot yerself, not at all, at all." 

" What do voLi ask for vour milk and whiskev?" 



A CONVERSATION. 107 

" Joost what yer honor bes plased to give; and I'll hoold 
yer poony foor yer while yer goone till the toop o' Manger- 
ton and ye need not git any boye to hoold it." 

" That would not be respectable. In our country we do 
not treat our women in that way. We make ladies of 
them, and keep them in the house." 

" Sure an' I wish I was in Amiriky. I've a coousin there. 
She bes there these five yare, an' has sint hoome foor her 
broother an' sister, the mooney for their passage, an' they 
bes goone these thra yares. An' I'd like to goo." 

"Why don't you go ?" 

" Och, sure, an' becase I've noo mooney enough till take me 
there. I'm thrying to save enough, but I doont know, so 
mooney ither coome here, we git boot little." And she 
looked sad. 

" Would you go home with me if I would pay your pas- 
sage, and live with me ?" 

She looked up to me earnestly, as if to ascertain whether 
I was serious ; and I looked so, unless my face belied my 
heart. She smiled, as a tear gathered in her eye, and in a 
changed voice, which trembled and hesitated for some mo- 
ments, she replied modestly : 

" Yis, sir, if yer honor'U take me, and my mither'll con- 
sint ; an' I'll work fur ye a whoole yare to pay ye." 

'• Do you think your mother would consent to let you go 
with a stranger, with a man of whom she knows nothing ?" 

" I'll ax her when we goo doown, and let ye know. My 
coousin wint, and they were sthrangers to her in yer cooun- 
thry. The Americans are all rich and good peoples ; I 
should like to goo there. They sint us soo much male last 
yare which kept us from stharvin, I know they'd be good to 
a poor Irish girl." 

This conversation continued for a long time, and on va- 
rious subjects, as she kept close by my horse all the way, 
and did not leave me for a minute till we reached the well 
near the top of the mountain. She was a girl, perhaps, 
eighteen, of medium stature and verv well formed. Her 



108 CONDITION DESCRIBED. 

manners were very simple and modest, savoring little of the 
coarseness we see in many of her nation. She was intelli- 
gent, for one uneducated, being barely able to read, and 
seemed to possess all the pre-requisites for a good scholar. 
I was surprised at the shrewdness and propriety of much 
of her conversation. She showed a strong and active 
mind, which had profited by what she had seen and heard. 
But she had never been but three miles from home, nor seen 
many strangers, except those who came to visit this moun- 
tain ; for it was rare that others suffered her to go to the 
Reeks, or to the Gap of Dunloe. 

She told me she always went to mass on Sunday, and 
rarely ever went to the town on any other occasion. She 
lived with her mother, who was a widow with four children, 
ail younger than herself, and did what she could to help her 
support them. They had two goats, from the milk of 
which they derived most of their living. They knit some 
stockings, spun some wool, and sometimes she carried turf 
from the bog. But she earned most by serving those who 
came in summer to visit the mountain. One of her sisters 
died the year before of starvation. She wept like a child 
while she described to me the sufferings they endured, and 
spoke in the most glowing terms of their joy when they re- 
ceived from the committee of distribution a few pints of 
corn meal, which had been sent from our country. 

1 have not wondered since that hour, why Irishmen should 
be ready to forswear their country and seek a home in 
America. The cause is plain enough. I shall henceforth, 
with all their faults, feel very differently for them than in 
times past. 

Two or three of our party were in advance of us. A 
girl for each was clambering over the rough stones to keep 
close to them. When ascending the steep places they would 
cling hold of the horses' tails with one hand to help them- 
selves along more easily. None of them had on shoes, and 
but two of them any covering for the head. One of 
them was a verv large, coarse-featured woman, \;-hose looks 



EXCLUSIVENESS, 109 

were any thing but fascinating — a real specimen of the 
worst looking Irish who emigrate. She could speak but a 
few words of English. But her looks and actions betokened 
her thoughts. She tried to ingratiate herself into the ser- 
vice of the Englishmen, so as to secure their patronage of 
her " milk and dew." But she found them very untracta- 
ble. They did take some, however, once or twice, but with 
such an ill grace, that the sixpence fell coldly into her hand. 
They kept clear of everything like sociability or friendliness 
with the men and women and boys who attended us, main- 
taining an air of self-importance which cowered all about 
them, and awakened feelings of antipathy to which they 
gave free expression in their absence. 

A strong feehng of hostility exists between the Irish and 
English, and especially between the Catholics and Protes- 
tants, which refuses all reconciUation, and manifests itself on 
a]l occasions where they come in contact. The Protestant 
Irish are regarded with more favor by the English, and 
many efforts are made to array them against their own 
countrymen ; in too many instances with entire, or partial 
success. A good deal of jealousy prevails among the 
Catholics towards all Protestants, growing out of the oppres- 
sions and privations inflicted for the support of the govern- 
ment religion. We saw numerous exhibitions of this feel- 
ing, not less frequent upon one side than the other. The 
slightest opportunity seemed to justify an expression of ill- 
feeling. 

These two gentlemen were strangers. Their conduct 
was in all respects very proper and honorable. They 
showed no disposition to irritate or injure those who came 
about them, but, so far as we saw, treated all respectfully 
and paid liberally for what they had. But it required little 
sagacity to perceive that there was no real respect or sym- 
pathy felt for these people. There was a bluntness, a hau- 
teur, ond exclusiveness, and a patronizing manner about 
them which excited neither gratitude nor esteem. They 

10 



110 WATEU SCENE. 

were shunned, or approached timorousl}-, merely to serve 
them for what they might receive. 

We may have been deceived, cheated by our own vanity ; 
or it might have been that they hoped to receive more gen- 
erous compensation from us ; but it was a fact, obvious to 
all, that wherever we were known as Americans, we re- 
ceived the most marked attentions, from the highest to the 
lowest. All seemed anxious to serve us to the utmost of 
their ability, to answer all our questions, and ask us a thou- 
sand more about our " blissid coounthry." And occasions 
were not wanting when they vented to us their feelings of 
hatred for the English, sneering covertly at the manners or 
some expressions of the men in our company, which others, 
less alienated and inimical in their feelings, would never 
have noticed. They kept close to us, and each tried to 
supplant the other, by oilering us drink. I told them I 
had chosen Mary, for mine, and that I should not drink 
milk nor water from the cup of another. This saved me 
all further annoyance, from which my companions were not 
so luckily exempted. 

On arriving near the summit, we ascended into a basin, 
or crater, in the bottom of which is a small pond, called the 
" Devil's Punch Bowl." It is a beautiful sheet of water ; it 
may be twenty rods wide and a hundred long, of an oval 
form and bordered by an inaccessible precipice upon the 
south and east sides, the dark and rugged outlines of which 
reflect their hideous forms from the mirror surface of the 
lake. It is said, with what truth I know not, that no line 
has been found long enough to sound its depth. It is also 
told, as a great marvel, that Lord Somebody actually swam 
quite around it, but suffered a severe sickness in conse- 
quence. The water, at this season, is veiy cold and clear, 
and Sir Richard said it retained the same temperature at all 
seasons of ihe year. 

Near the border of the Bowl is a fine clear spring of lim- 
pid water, called the "Bachelor's Well." The girls all 
rushed forward in advance of us, dipped a cup full, and run- 



TilE BROGUE. Ill 

ning back, thrust it into our faces. Of course we must 
drink, but before doing so, we inquired what were the pecu- 
Har virtues of the water. Sir Richard repUed, that it had 
been believed, from time immemorial, that any bachelor 
drinking three times of this water would be sure to fall in 
love with some lady whom he would finally marry. 

I asked Mary, who held her cup out to me, if she be- 
lieved that ? She looked down modestly and replied, " They 
say so." 

" Is there any danger if one drinks but little ? for I am 
very dry." 

" Sorra a taste o' it'll harm ye at all, at all ; barrin yer 
honor do kape clare o' tastin' a dhrop o' it the third time ;" 
said a middle-aged woman I had not noticed before. 

" And what if one of us should chance to drink the tiurd 
time, and then take a notion to love and marry some 'Kate 
o' Killarney ;' do you suppose there would be a chance of 
success, or would he be obliged to throw himself in despair 
down the precipice into the Horse Glen, about which Sir 
Richard has been telling us ?" 

" Faix, sir ; nivir a bit o' it at all ; for, sure there do not 
bes the likes of a purty damsel in all swate Ireland as 
wouldn't marry ony gintilmin froom Amiriky, an' go till 
there wid him, an' make him a gude wooman, an' rare up 
his childers as dacenter nor the rapscallions at hoome" 

" Upon my honor, were I a young man, I might be 
tempted to take a third and copious draught from this 
charmed fountain, with such a prospect before me." 

" Musha, an' ye'd nivir lamint it at all, foor ye'd save 
anither poor craytur' froom poverty an' sufferin', and la; ■ 
her in the road to happiness." 

" Begorra, 'tis that same what I'm thinkin, too," said Sir 
Richard, in a genuine Kerry brogue, forgetting his fashion 
of English accent. " We've as handsomei-, an' dacenter, 
an' cliverer nor can be foound in ony ither coounthry, an' 
will make yer honor as moore happy. Aych, there now, 
Mary, in troth, ye've noo nade to look so moody. Ye're 



112 AN ADVENTURE. 

no spalpeen, to be ashamed. Oh, wh'ra, ye do bes lookin' 
as a colleen goin' to confission," said he, merrily. 

Finding the comments of these simple-hearted people 
growing rather direct and personal, I returned to our com- 
pany, mounted my pony, and started off by a path .which 
led around the south side of the crowning summit. None 
followed me, and I did not perceive my mistake till I heard 
the trumpet of Sir Richard, whom I saw on foot, turned 
directly up towards the peak. He called me back. But 
my ambition led me to seek the top by a direct route. I 
attempted to turn my pony, but he refused to put his foot 
upon the grassy turf. I urged him in vain. Despairing of 
riding him further, I turned him about and dismounted^ and 
then started on foot to ascend to the summit. 

I soon learned the reason why the pony v/ould not ven- 
ture from the path. The soft bog would not bear him : 
and I found it impossible to proceed without miring. I re- 
turned to the path, but my horse was now a full half mile 
from me. A little farther on, I found the bed of a ravine, 
up which I followed for some distance. The bottom was 
of naked granite, of a light hue and a good deal fractured. 
On either side, the soft, black bog was piled up from six to 
eight feet deep. The rains had washed out the narrow 
ditch up which I went. Clambering up the side, I saw that 
it would bear me while I kept close to the edge ; but the 
moment I stepped aside, I began to sink. I could thrust 
my cane down the full length of it any where. 

I was much surprised to find a deep bed of peat crown- 
ing the very apex of the mountain, and extending far down 
its sides, except where the rocks were so steep that the rains 
had washed it all away. I had supposed the bogs were in 
low valleys only, where masses of vegetable matter had 
been deposited from the higher lands by the rains which 
wash the mountains. But here, upon the rounded sum- 
mit of a momitain, two thousand seven hundred feet high, 
is a vast field of bog, averaging, as far as I could judge, the 
depth of six feet, and resting directly upon a surface of 



MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 113 

smooth granite, of which the mountain is principally com- 
posed. There is no layer of clay, no strata of marl, sand, 
or gravel beneath it. The surface of the bog is covered 
by a thin grass, the roots forming a shallow sward, which 
is insufficient to bear men or cattle, when the mass below 
is saturated, as it generally is, with water. 

With great difficulty, I succeeded in reaching the summit 
as soon as my companions. Here we had a magnificent 
prospect in all directions, as far as the eye could reach, ex- 
cept a small space at the west, towards Deny-Nane — the 
former residence of O'Connell, which was hidden by the high- 
est peak in Ireland, Carran Tual, and McGillicuddy's Reeks, 
which stand like towers of defence about their royal mas- 
ter. North of them, beyond a fine, undulating country, 
we could see Dingle Bay ; and on the south, over rough, 
barren hills, cut in pieces by deep glens and widening vales, 
lay, in glassy brightness, the Bay of Kenm.ire, and a little 
further, over another rough range, through which we could 
trace the celebrated and romantic Glen-garift', was Bantry 
Bay, and, still further, Cape Clear and the broad Atlantic. 

Towards the east, a long line of broken, barren, heathy 
hills, rocky dells, and deep ravines. The romantic valley 
of the Flask, winding tortuously through this wild and des- 
olate region, so well described in Lever's O'Donoghue, is 
distinctly traced — the rounded Paps and Cahirconree on the 
one side, and Croghon and Keim-an-eigh on the other. In 
this direction is a scene of wild and confused desolation, 
such as the eye rarely rests upon, which contrasts forcibly 
with the beautiful and cultivated vales beyond, and the 
broad and gently undulating plains on the north. 

What adds greatly to the beauty of this remarkably pic- 
turesque scenery are the numerous little lakes which be- 
spangle it like stars in the deep blue firmament of heaven. 
Scarcely a hut or sign of human habitation meets the eye in 
all this range. The lone house of "O'Donoghue o' the 
Glen," and, not far off, the hunting lodge of some nobleman, 
were pointed out hy Sir Richard, and occasionally a few 

10* 



114 PICTURESaUE SCENERY. 

wretched cabins, tenanted by a most miserable race, who 
keep a few goats and till, where they can a few patches of 
earth with potatoes, oats or barley. 

I had never dreamed that such a dreary, mountainous 
district could be found in the Emerald Isle ; never that a 
landscape so variegated, wild, and picturesque was to be 
looked for, except in Scotland or Switzerland. The lakes 
and town of Killarney, the shaded villas, the small and vari- 
colored fields, the innumerable white thatched huts dotting 
the broad sweep of cultivated and apparently level land, 
west and north, which, seen at this distance, look very neat 
and comfortable ; the floating clouds, which once or twice 
completely enveloped us in mist — every thing, in fine, con- 
spired to entrance me with the beauty, splendor, and nov- 
elty of the scene. 

The view from the top of Mount Washington is more 
grand, more awfully sublime, but lacks the variety, beauty, 
and romance of this spot. There we see no crumbling 
castles, ivyed abbeys, ruined monasteries, unfinished cathe- 
dral, gray old towers, embowered villas, O'Donoghue le- 
gends, sportsmens' lodges, shepherds' cots, thatched cabins, 
Irish wit, and Celtic songs. We have beautiful lakes, 
though none so sweet and silvery as these scattered all 
about us. We have narrow defiles, but none more wild, 
and picturesque, than Glen-gariff, the Pass of Keim-an-eigh, 
the Gap of Dunloe, or Commedhuv. We have taller moun- 
tains, and ranges, and spurs shooting off in different direc- 
tions, but none more bleak and wildly confused than these. 
Ours mingle not the white, bleached granite, rising, occa- 
sionally, in perpendicular masses, with the brown heather, ' 
purple erica, dark green patches of moor and fen, and f 
glassy lakelets. 

We have more patriotic names, but none so venerable 
and euphonious as Carran Tual, Cahirconree, Cracmaveel, 
Finnevagogh, Cruchnabinny, Fortagrisane, GlengarifF, Too- 
mies, and Cahir Reeks. Ours have a newness and freshness, 
which, in one sense, charms us. They I'ise from the midst 



A SOBER THOUGHT. 115 

of vast forests, which climb far up their sides, till dwindled 
into shrubs and moss ; then come the naked and confused 
masses of dark rocks. These plant their deeply indented 
bases on broad fields of rich soil, bedotted with lakes, towns, 
hamlets, and huts, which latter extend up their shrubless 
sides as far as space of earth is found to till. 

The remains of centuries are here ; and the mind wanders 
from the wonderful and sublime in natural scenery, to con- 
template, in solemn, gloomy silence, the waste and desola- 
tions of time ; the fearful transitions through which hu- 
manity passes ; the wrongs, and outrages, and brutality of 
man towards his brother ; the poverty, ignorance, and de- 
gradation which revel amid such natural splendor and pro- 
fuse benevolence ; the excessive jar of human wretched- 
ness, which grates hatefully upon the ear, where so much 
poetry mingles in all the works of God ! 

Oh, the curse of oppression ! of kingcraft, and priestcraft, 
and goldcraft ! How many millions groan in the most ab- 
ject bondage, to gratify and pamper the few ! What fear- 
ful judgments await the oppressors of their fellow-men ! the 
abusers of the world ! the disgracers of human nature ! 
Will God hold them guiltless who so disfigure and despoil 
the richest beauties of His works, and suffer no feeling of 
gratitude to glow in yearning kindness for his suffering 
sons and daughters ? Will he for ever suffer the heel of 
arrogance and pride to tramp upon the rights, the comforts, 
and souls of his children ? Shall the thousands starve 
amid rags and filth, while the few roll in luxury and 
quaff", without emotion, the sweat and blood of their breth- 
ren ? Is justice no longer in the earth ? Has benevolence 
fled in despair to return not, ever ? Is there no mercy — 
not a ray of hope ? Are the heavens draped in darkness, 
and the earth an uncared-for battle-field, where wrong tri- 
umphs, and error bears rule ? 

]No ! I cannot believe it ! It is impossible ! Here stand 
the everlasting hills, there roll the waves of the mighty 
ocean ; and yonder peer out the golden rays of the blessed sun, 



116 A LEGEND. 

which encircles the earth and the heavens with his hght 
and warmth — emblems of Almighty Power and Benevo- 
lence, which reign omnipotent and miiversal over all things! 
Infinite Wisdom is leading individuals and nations by "ways 
they know not." Adored be His name ; the glory of His 
great goodness shall be I'evealed and enjoyed in His time. 
Let all the nations put their trust in Him. 



THE DESCENT. 

After lingering behind a considerable time, to gaze upon 
the profuse grandeur of this magnificent landscape, giving 
free scope to my reflections — for I always loved mountains 
— I hastened to overtake my companions, who were crossing 
a narrow and dangerous neck which separates the Devil's 
Punch Bowl from the Glen of the Horse, in the bottom of 
which is a small sheet of water, called " O'Donoghue's 
Horse Pond." From the surface, which is not twenty rods 
over, the hills rise abruptly — on the south, a perpendicular 
rock forms the ridge from which we had descended ; on the 
west, nearly so, and on the north more gradually. On the 
steep, grassy sides, small flocks of sheep and goats were 
feeding, and a shepherdess was not far off", watching them. 
On the east there is a narrow opening, which winds around 
the foot of one of the Passes, through which runs the Flask 
and the road from Bally vourney, by the old ruin of O'Don- 
oghue castle, to Killarney. It is a wild and lonely spot. 
From the top of the hills, fifteen hundred feet above the 
pond, the basin is not half a mile over, and from where we 
stood, to the Pass, less than two miles. 

Sir Richard related several legends of love and heroism 
connected with this singularly romantic spot, and pointed 
out the place where a certain valiant knight, of the feudal 
time, was chased along the crest of the giddy ridge — the 
horse making a fearful plunge down the craggy precipice to 
the bottom of the glen, was instantly crushed to a thousand 
atoms, while the dashing hero by a masterly spring, clung 



SUPEUSTITION. 117 

safely upon a projection of the cliff till his pursunig enemy- 
passed b3^ From this legend came the name of "Horse 
Glen," by which the locality is now designated. 

Upon the other side of the Bowl, Sir Richard showed us 
O'Donoghue's wash-basin, soap and towel — a little pond a 
rod over, and a large flat rock set on one edge and a rounded 
one near it, which the fancy of this simple people has 
wrought into such a likeness. A little farther, there is a 
large flat stone, with rounded edges, leaning upon another, 
weighing two or three tons. This is O'Donoghue's quoit 
with which he used to try his hand with the devil after 
drinking copiously from the Punch Bowl. Close by is the 
Pulpit, conjured out of a massive stone which stands up by 
itself A fracture in one side of it answers for a stairway 
before which is a fragment upon which to spread the book. 
Just before the Pulpit is a small rock called the Reading 
Desk. Here O'Donoghue held his religious services. Far- 
ther down the mountain is his coffee cup, and Beelzebub's 
wine-glass. 

The singular contiguity of all this paraphernalia of 
sport and piety, pulpit and punch bowl, saint and devil, love 
and lechery, strangely mingled in the legends of the place, as 
related by Sir Richard, is not without a parallel in the sober 
realities of later times. Could the abominations of wicked 
and deceitful men be all made known, what a strange and 
confused mixture would appear ! But the girls are crowd- 
ing round us with their mountain dew and goats' milk, and 
we have no time to moralize. 

It is as much as we can do to resist the importunities of 
these poor creatures, who begin to fear that, as we drink 
nothing, they shall receive little pay. 

I was considerably amused to see with what earnestness 
these women would beset some of our party. The strap- 
ping girl who could speak scarcely a word of English, was 
most zealous in her efforts to get rid of her potheen. She 
treated Sir Richard several times to induce him to use his 
influence in her behalf, and, as he grew a little mellow, he 



118 THE CONTRAST. 

did SO, but in an honorable way, after a few sharp rebukes 
from the others. As she could not talk our language, he 
interpreted for her ; but the others were careful to watch 
all he said. I was spared their annoyance, by telling them 
I had chosen Mary, and should give her all I had to bestow. 
Sir Richard seemed offended at this, for a moment, and 
asked her something, the meaning of which I did not com- 
prehend. 

I know not what the morals of these people are, but I 
saw nothing aside from the strictest propriety in all their 
conduct. They seem to be simple, confiding, and, what 
is not common in Irisii character, unsuspicious of others. 
On our way down, I had a long conversation with Mary and 
her cousin, whose brother has been three years in Boston. 
I was surprised at their general good sense, at the modesty 
of their manners, and the apparent purity and excellence 
of their sentiments. They expressed strong emotions, and 
an active sensitiveness when speaking of their miserable 
condition and dark prospects ; and kindled with the liveliest 
enthusiasm when they spake of going to America, 

I painted the highest scenes of domestic enjoyment 
among the peasantry of our country, to see what effect it 
would have on them — spoke of our common schools, which 
are free to all ; the opportunities to the virtuous and indus- 
trious for becoming wise and happy ; of the entire absence 
of grades on account of birth and wealth ; of the intermar- 
riages between rich and poor, and the many excellences of 
our social polity. They listenend with the profoundest at- 
tention, and I marked their thoughts and feelings as clearly 
expressed in their countenances, when allusion was made to 
the forlorn condition of their country, the ignorance, vice, and 
misery which many of them carried to our country. They 
seemed to feel deeply chagrined when speaking of their lot 
and sought no justification, but wept when they saw the in- 
surmountable obstacles which kept them where they were. 

To try the strength of their affections I asked them, as I 
had done before, if they would like to go to America. The 



^ 



FJLIAL LOVE. 119 

cousin answered without hesitation, that she should, and as 
soon as her brother sent her money enough, she should go 
there. Mary sighed and said : 

" Most sure, yer honor ; barrin I could'nt lave my poor 
mither and the childers behint me," and she wept bitterly. 

" Chare up, Mary dear," said the cousin. " The good 
Lard may provide the way for ye to goo there yit. Ye do 
be makin' yerself a silly crayture before the kind gintilmin." 

" Not at all," said I ; " such a mark of filial affection be- 
comes a good heart. I esteem Mary more highly for this 
proof of her love to her mother, for no being on earth 
so much deserves her gratitude and watchful care as her 
mother in decline or distress. I am glad to know that 
poverty and suffering have not sundered the tender cords 
which bind human hearts in the holiest responsibiUties. 
The cup of misery can be sweetened only by a faithful love, 
and an unwavering devotion to each other's welfare. It 
would be cruel for Mary to forsake her aged mother, when 
she has no other means of support, but her labor." 

The last remark renewed all the bitterness of her grief, 
from which she had partly recovered by what preceded, and 
I turned the conversation by expressing the hope that better 
days awaited them, that they would have more abundant 
crops, and that a growing sense of justice and human- 
ity would relieve them from the monstrous burdens by 
which they were so crushed to earth. This seemed to cheer 
her up, but when her cousin gayly added ; " Ayeh, an ye'U 
goo till Amiriky, an yer mither an the childers wi' ye, and 
there ye'll see these kind gintilmin, an* suffer no moore." 
All her grief was renewed again ; and she tried to answer 
by describing the hopelessness of their condition, and the 
utter impossibility of so desirable an event. 

I never felt my heart so pained before. I never so de- 
voutly coveted wealth as then. What a grand scheme 
dashed through my brain, as I transported these millions of 
poor creatures from this beautiful but doomed land, and set- 
tled them on the vast prairies of our western country, with 



120 A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 

farms and schools, and churches, and men to teach them all 
branches of industry, all the arts of domestic enjoyment, 
and the brighter hopes of a more Catholic faith than Rome 
or England ever taught them. My head twirled at the sud- 
denness and vastness of the scheme, and I was wrapt in a 
sort of Swedenborgian ecstasy, till aroused by the sight of 
my companions who were cantering their ponies over the 
plain at the foot of the principal descent, followed by the 
men and boys who had ascended to hold our horses, and 
beg from us what they could. 

I told the girls I must hasten forward and overtake them, 
as we were to go over the lakes immediately after a lunch. 
They wished to know if they should go round to the other 
side to meet us when we landed there, or whether we de- 
signed going to the gap of Dunloe and the Reeks, the 
next day. I told them that to-morrow was Sunday, and 
asked them if they would go on that day. They said they 
would go to early mass, and be back in season to accom- 
pany us on that excursion. I told them we should not go, 
as it was the custom in our country to observe the Sabbath, 
though we sometimes traveled short distances on Sunda}', 
when it could not be well avoided. 

By this time we had reached the foot of the principal 
mountain. I gave Mary a shilling, and her cousin and 
brother, who had just met us, a sixpence each, for which 
they expressed the sincerest gratitude, spoke some words 
of encouragement, bade them adieu, and hastened on to 
overtake my comrades. 

Several women had come out from the hovels and stood 
beside the road, some with stockings to sell, others with a 
cup of milk, one with a deformed child which she held up 
to excite pity and secure a gift ; two or three were tending 
the gate which divided the two estates, and all looked rag- 
ged, wretched, and half starved. 

On reaching the hotel we found all the men and boys in 
waiting, to receive something for having accompanied us 
to the mountain, We paid the stipulated price for the 



THE SCENE CHANGES. 121 

ponies, including Sir Richard's, but a demand was made for 
more for catching, saddling and bridling them. We divest- 
ed ourselves of these starved leeches as best we could, but 
not to their entire satisfaction ; partook of a hasty lunch and 
started for the lakes. The hotel keeper has boats and oars- 
men always in readiness, and under very excellent regula- 
tion. 



THE LAKES. 

Sir Richard took the helm and directed the expedition, 
pointing out all the objects of curiosity, relating interesting 
legends, and describing incidents which had occurred at 
different times and places. We passed from near the mouth 
of the Flesk over a part of the lower lake, called Lough 
Laune, around the peninsula of Muckruss into the middle, or 
Turk Lake. A narrow strait, over which a bridge has been 
erected, connects the lakes, which are nearly on a level. 

On our way we were shown O'Donoghue's horse, which 
he rode when the devil chased him down from Mangerton, 
after a spree at the Punch Bowl. The likeness is composed 
of a large soft rock, so fractured and worn away by the mo- 
tion of the water that, from a certain position, it very much 
resembles a horse standing up to his knees in the water in a 
drinking posture. 

We were assured, by undoubted authority, that many of 
the inhabitants have, time out of mind, believed, as they 
still do, that this image was actually transformed from a 
living horse, by demoniac agency, in retaliation for some 
wrong, real or fancied, received from the O'Donoghue dy- 
nasty, which, in olden time, swayed a kingly sceptre over 
this region. These O'Donoghues erected Ross castle, and, 
in the days of feudalism, lived in great splendor ; but pos- 
sessing a large share of patriotism, they did not submit wil- 
lingly to English rule ; for however often beaten, they were 
among the foremost to rebel, till Ludlow, by order of 
Cromwell destroved their castle, confiscated their lands, 

11 



122 



LEGENDS. 



and drove the family into the mountains. There, in the 
deep and romantic " Glen Flesk," they built and fortified 
another castle, which, for a long time, kept up a show of 
Baronial magnificence, the ruins of which still bear the 
family name. 

Passing to the southern shore, in order to enter the mid- 
dle lake, our boatmen favored us with some fine echoes 
from a cave in Purple mountain. By peculiar intonations 
of voice, they could produce a very musical effect, and 
bring back responses to their questions. This was done in 
Their native dialect, which Sir Richard interpreted to us. 
They also sang us Celtic songs ; the wildness of the music 
corresponding well with the lofty scenery around us. 
Some of their airs were peculiarly soft and pleasant. But 
their heavier songs partook of what Irish spirit was in more 
chivalric days. These songs and ballads form almost the 
only link which connects the present with former genera- 
tions, and forcibly awaken the lower classes to a sense of 
their present degradation. They boast of their great an- 
cestors ; of their deeds of heroic valor ; of their bloody 
triumphs or glorious deaths, much in the strain of the war- 
speeches of our Indian tribes ; and, like them, are degene- 
rate specimens of what they boast of 

The entrance into the upper lake is by a narrow and rapid 
channel. The scenery constantly changes as we pass from 
point to point across the little bays, coves, sinuosities, and 
by the miniature capes and promontories. Dark clouds 
enveloped the Toomies and Minister's Back, the crowning 
peaks of Purple mountain. Mangerton had drawn a thick 
veil over his face soon after we left it. Occasional dashes 
of rain had fallen, to our great discomfort. But we kept 
on, as the solemn grandeur deepened at every step, and was 
much heightened by this appearance of the heavens, as re- 
flected on the bosom of the lake. 

We landed on Dinas Island, to see the cottage of Mr. Her- 
bert, and some large Arbutus trees, which are preserved with 
great care for the value of the wood, which is wrought into 



RURAL BEAUTY. 123 

various kinds of light, fancy articles, that are kept for 
sale in the town, as rarities peculiar to this region. It is a 
rare species of indigenous wood, and possesses a beauty 
little inferior to mahogany. It does not grow in abundance, 
and hence the great value set upon it. The trees are not 
large ; at least, we saw none of more than twelve inches in 
diameter and twenty feet in height, and these were pointed 
out to us as the best specimens in the neighborhood. 

From Dinas we w^ent to Glena Island, and visited the ro- 
mantic cottage of Lady Kenmare, and the grounds about 
it, which are laid out with much taste, and ornamented 
with a great variety of trees and shrubs, among which some 
curious specimens of bald, double, and silver-leafed hollies 
were shown us. A woman was in attendance, to show us 
about the premises and receive a shilling. 

Near the cottage is a banqueting hall, where parties are 
provided with whatever refreshments they please, by giv- 
ing orders beforehand. It is a place for the display of high 
life by those who come to visit the lakes, spend their mo- 
ney, and make a show of liberality. We were invited to 
leave our orders for a dinner next day, with the promise 
that every thing should be served to our entire satisfaction. 
We had no pretensions to the character which displays it- 
self in such a manner, and under such circumstances. Our 
republicanism could find more suitable opportunities to ex- 
ercise its functions. So much misery about us would give a 
poor relish to a luxurious feast, and we forbore our assent. 

Every thing about the little island is fitted up in a neat 
and tasteful manner. The elegant furniture is standing in 
the cottage, though rarely used, never over a few days in 
the year, as the " noble (?) proprietor" is among the ab- 
sentees — in London, or on the Continent. Every thing 
wears the appearance of rural elegance, and, with a good 
conscience, few cares, and general prosperity around, one 
might be very happy there. But a man's life consisteth 
not in the abundance which he possesseth. This is not the 
spot where I should look for genuine happiness. 



124 INNISFALLEN. 

Returning from the view of the sublime scenery pre- 
sented at this point, we passed into the lower lake, and 
crossed over to the famous island of Innisfallen. This lake, 
which is the largest of the three, may be four or five miles 
long, and half that in width. The island contains fifteen 
or twenty acres. It is fringed with sparse trees and brush. 
A grass-grown walk extends around it, and across it, in seve- 
ral directions. Upon one side is a plain banqueting-hall, little 
used, I should judge, by the appearance of the grass around 
it. It is constructed from the oratory formerly attached to 
the ancient abbey, which is now all in ruins, the Norman 
arches of which attest the date of its erection. This is the 
place where the " Annals of Innisfallen" were composed, 
of which a native writer says : " The Annals, written and 
preserved in the Abbey, are amongst the most prized of 
our early historical materials ; several copies are still ex- 
tant ; the original, the first portion of which is written 
over six hundred, and the continuation over five hundred 
years, is now preserved in the Bodleian Library. It 
consists of extracts from the Old Testament : and a com- 
pendium of universal history, much mutilated, down to the 
arrival of Saint Patrick, in 432. Thence forward to the 
end, it treats of the affairs of Ireland, finishing at 1319." 
" From this situation," says another writer, " variety, 
beauty of surface, its forest glades, magnificent single trees, 
and thickets of shrubs, this island is, perhaps, the most in- 
teresting of the numerous objects which this region of 
wonder and beauty affords — it is the most delightful of 
islands, and, like Ross, forms an adjunct to the additional 
demesne of the noble proprietor." 

Sir Richard conducted us to all parts of the Island, show- 
ing us the " Bed of Honor," the legend of which he related 
to us, with many a sage comment and shrewd wink of the 
eye, to express more than he ventured to tell us. On the 
shore, opposite, he pointed out the cottage of the beautiful 
Kate Kearney, so famed in ballad. He took us to a mag- 
nificent holly tree, growing over some sort of masonry — a 



ROSS ISLAND. 125 

tomb, perhaps — the trunk of which is twenty-two feet in 
circumference, though not more than a dozen high, before 
it divides into innumerable branches. We also saw an ash, 
of nearly equal size. What tales could these old trees tell 
of the scenes enacted about them, many long centuries 
ago. They have been the witnesses of vast changes ! 
They have seen the feudal lord, the virtual king, rear his 
proud castles close by, throw down the altars of the wild 
heathen, and command the Christian devotee to bend as 
blindly at his devotions before the dictatorial priest, as ever 
the heathen did. They have heard the loud chant of the 
choral service go up in the chapel of the old monastery, 
now in ruins, and grow faint while the mitred bishop led 
out a long train of robed priests, cowled monks, and hooded 
nuns, in solemn procession, on some fete day of the church. 
They have listened to the secret plans, and whispered sus- 
picions and jealousies of aspiring and crafty Jesuits, and to 
the sharp rebukes and whining confessions of poor, deluded, 
half-crazed, and silly men and women, who told to arrogant 
and meddlesome priests, thoughts and feelings which be- 
longed to God and themselves alone. What fearful records 
have been made against the assumptions and abuse of 
power in God's name ! Keep silence, ye witnesses of the 
past, I do beseech you, lest the present generation be made 
more vile by a knowledge of the intrigues and pious chi- 
canery of wickeder times. 

Next, we crossed over to Ross Island, passing round the 
rocky point which juts into the lake a long distance, the 
edges of which are chafed out into a thousand fantastic 
forms. Near the spot where we landed, extensive mining 
operations were formerly carried on, with some success. 
We landed on a small pier and dismissed our boatmen, 
who returned with our English companions — who feared 
the sprinkling rain. We loitered through the charming 
and romantic grounds of the Earl of Kenmare. 

The whole island, of about one hundred acres, is laid out 
into walks and drives, bordered with all sorts of flowers 

11* 



126 ROSS CASTLE. 

and shrubbery, and shaded by a great variety of native and 
exotic trees. Every thing is kept in the most perfect or- 
der, and displays a degree of taste and extravagance I never 
witnessed before. The surface of the land and the shore 
are beautifully diversified by nature, and then the hand of 
art has spared no pains to adorn them in the most elegant 
manner. In the bottom of a dell is a low vine cottage, 
completely covered, sides, roofs, columns, every part of it, 
with a verdure which, at this season, appears remark- 
ably beautiful. Tall forest trees overhang the rear and 
sides, and a most delightful flower-garden stretches out 
in front, ornamented with every variety of vine, shrub, and 
flower, trained in the most singular and fantastic forms, 
with moss and shell statuary, and other ornaments inter- 
spersed. Then an apparently natural forest of trees and 
underbrush, in wild profusion, from the midst of which, on 
a gentle eminence, rises the gray, ivy-clad ruin of Ross 
castle, the ancient home of the renowned O'Donoghues. 

It is a famous pile, and betokens something of its former 
splendor and magnificence. On the side we approached it, 
stands the main tower, the keep, or dwelling part extending 
out a hundred feet or more on the opposite side. The sides 
were covered with a matting of thick ivy, of different 
kinds, as I judged from the color and shape of the leaves. 
This covering reaches to the top of the walls. It has been 
recently trimmed away from the windows, so as to show 
the building to better advantage. The roof and floors are 
all fallen, but the walls and chimneys are in tolerable pre- 
servation. A small lawn opens down towards the lake, on 
the south-west, where is the principal boat-landing, or 
" port," as our conductress called it. 

A middle-aged woman came at our signal, from the 
lodge in the rear, and unlocked the gate, an old rickety 
door which opened into the main tower. We commenced 
at once, the ascent, by a narrow^ winding stairway. The 
stone steps are greatly worn — more, doubtless, by modern 
than by ancient feet. The world is more anxious to look 



A CHANGE. 



127 



and reflect upon the Past, or stare at the Future, than to 
improve the Present. Round and round, up and up, by 
narrow windows, and door- ways opening to the large rooms 
in the main tower, situated one above anotlier, till at last we 
reach the top, which was thickly grassed over, and shrubs and 
a yew tree were growing above all. Here we had a grand 
view of what I have described before, except the summits 
of the reeks, which were shrouded in misty darkness. We 
looked down into the close, above the top of which we 
stood, more than fifty feet, and, as the large banqueting 
hall, all naked and floorless, was pointed out, I thought of 
the splendid feasts and late carousals of Irish noblemen, 
once held there; of the secret plottings and diabolical 
deeds concocted there ; of the noise, and mirth, and revelry 
which echoed the life and feeling of proud and joyous 
hearts ; of the story and the song, which told of heroic ex- 
ploits of warriors and huntsmen ; of love and rivalry ; of 
beauty and blandishments ; of timorous devotion, daring 
courage, and broken vows. 

Alas ! what change ! Now all is silent as the hall of 
death. The ivy climbs stealthily up, like the wily serpent, 
and plants its fangs in every crevice of the walls. The bat 
and the lizard make an undisturbed home where splendor 
rioted, and the crawing rook flies dolefully about, as if be- 
moaning the desolation of the place. Who can stand here 
and not feel dizzy in bewilderment at the vast changes time 
has wrought ? Who can avoid the strange emotions of 
mingled pity and admiration, of regret and thankfulness, at 
the strong contrast before him ? Under us is ruin, around 
us splendor, mixed with the confused noise of oppression 
and beggary, pleading vainly at the door of liberty and af- 
fluence ; and pride, boasting of the greatness and glory of 
British authority, justice, and benevolence! But, thank 
God, over us are the deep blue heavens which encircle the 
globe ; out from which comes a voice which bids us look 
upward, and gaze at the Infinite, the Good, and the Just. 
And we find in our hearts a germ of faith which looks over 



128 A BANKRUPT LORD. 

the mutations of earth, the wrongs and insults suffered here, 
to the clear, the beautiful, and divine ; where no cry is 
heard ; no tear is shed ; not a sigh escapes ; but love and 
liberty, the boon of all the redeemed, and a song of praise 
is warbled from tongues immortal, to the honor and glory 
of God alone. 

Another shilling, and we started for the town on foot. 
An excellent road conducts through a continuous plantation 
of fine large trees and over a long causeway and bridge to 
the main land, beside which are constructed walks for 
pedestrians. Near the town stands the plain old mansion 
of Lord Kenmare, the bankrupt j)roprietor of an immense 
tract of land, divided into pleasure grounds, deer parks, 
hunting forests, pasture, meadow and tillage lands, tenanted 
by ten thousand hard-working, miserably clad, and worse- 
fed human beings. By the sweat and blood of these op- 
pressed and depressed people, the proprietor and his Shylock 
agents and underwriters, are enabled to live at their ease in 
London, Paris, Italy, Switzerland ; any where except in 
Ireland where they belong, and whence they draw the nutri- 
ment for their extravagance, and where, of right, it should 
be distributed again. 

Every thing about the mansion appears comfortable and 
genteel, though ancient. Lady Kenmare, whose name is 
always spoken in connexion with the ownership and man- 
agement of every thing, seems to rule in queenly dignity. 
She is much more respected than his Lordship, and comes 
oftener to look at the vast demesnes, and see that the build- 
ings, gardens, walks, and hedges are kept in order. By the 
extravagance and profligacy of his youth, the whole property 
was heavily encumbered years ago ; but, by the laws of 
England, no part of it can be touched by his creditors, ex- 
cept the income. This they have taken under their super- 
vision and allow the " noble proprietor" a fixed amount, 
—some £7,000 or £8000 (-$35,000 or #40,000) a-year, to 
enable him to maintain the dignity of his position as a " no- 
ble Peer of the Realm." 



ENTAIL AND PRIMOGENITURE. 129 

Such is the rottenness and injustice of the English sys- 
tem of government, that the real estate of a nobleman can 
not be enfeoffed under any circumstance whatever by the act 
of a creditor. He may be a miserable, worthless scoundrel, 
indebted to any amount, but so long as he lives there is 
his title and property which none but the crown may touch ; 
and when he dies it goes to his oldest male heir, who may 
be, if possible, more involved and abandoned than himself; 
and there it remains secure for the next generation. 

We wonder at this state of things, unused as we are to 
see such wrong and injustice in our Republic, where the 
feudal claims of entail and primogeniture are denied, and 
a perfect equality secured to all. But we should remember 
that the safety of the British government rests upon this 
provision. 

At the time of the conquest, the country was divided into 
immense estates, and given to the most devoted sycophants, 
who were thus constituted the aristocricy — who were invest- 
ed with the right to govern the nation. The possession of 
the land was entailed, and made hereditary in the oldest male 
heir. The younger members of the family were left to shirk 
for themselves. This condition of things exists under 
the boasted Constitution of England, and operates every 
year worse and worse, as the increasing poverty and misery 
of the people shows. Enterprise is paralyzed by it, and in- 
dustry starves. Any change, though loudly demanded, is 
feared, as destructive to the hereditary nobility of the na- 
tion ; for if creditors could secure the payment of their 
debts by the partition and sale of these estates, or should 
they be divided among the different members of the family, 
the title must soon be lost. Nearly every nobleman has so 
covered his property with encumbrances that, was justice 
done, he could not retain a claim to the wretched hovel of 
his poorest tenant. The nobility, the exchequer, and, for 
aught I know, the royalty itself, are so deplorably bankrupt 
that the demands of justice can never be met ; yet the force 
of habit, the terrors of the government, and various expe- 



130 THE VILLAGE OF KILLARNEY. 

dients of cunning men, continue to cheat justice of her 
claims, and the honest people of their rights, and keep the 
masses in a condition of most abject vassalage and suffering. 
But all this only serves to procrastinate and make more ter- 
rible the certain and fearful retribution which shall over- 
whelm this country, sooner or later. 

A crowd of wretched creatures were about the streets, 
greater than we saw on our arrival. It was Saturday, and 
had been market-day. Some carts, with asses harnessed 
to them, were standing about, or passing out of the place. 
We perambulated the two principal streets, observing, as 
closely as we could, the condition of the people, the style 
of their houses, and their manner of Jiving. The result was 
painful in the extreme. Such dens of misery as we saw in 
some places are only equaled by the lowest grades of the 
same miserable race who burrow in the filthy purlieus of 
our cities, and beg from door to door. We were beset 
by scores of deformed, starved, lame and trembling skele- 
tons, half covered by patched and tattered garments, who 
muttered, in under tones, undistinguishable words, as they 
held out their thin hands, and followed after us from place 
to place. We were glad to make our retreat as best we 
could, and so took shelter in the shop of the woman who 
had offered us her wares of Killarney manufacture. But 
we did not escape by this manoeuver, for, while purchasing 
a few articles, they swarmed around us despite the em- 
phatic demonstrations of the shop-keeper, nor did we finally 
shake them off till we left the town on our return to Clog- 
hereen. We purchased a few trifles, which were duly let- 
tered in silver, " Killarney Lakes," with the names we had 
prescribed, and forwarded to our hotel, a distance of two 
miles. 

The rival saleswoman who had also called on us, hailed 
us as we passed her shop, and we could not refuse to go in 
and look at her wares. With Irish earnestness she reproved 
us for not giving her the preference, because her articles 
were so much better. We plead our inability to carry any 



LUXURY AND STARVATION. 131 

thing. Her husband offered to forward us whatever we 
might order, to any amount, and free of expense, to Liver- 
pool or New York, and wait for his pay till we could return 
it. So much for confidence in " American Securities." 
The other trader had proposed the same before. Verily, 
we thought, the Irish are not the most suspicious people on 
earth, after all, if they will trust strangers and foreigners 
in this way. We purchased a few trinkets and passed on. 
The variety and quality of the dishes served for our late 
dinner, of which we partook in company with our English 
companions, betokened any thing but the leanness and pov- 
erty of the land. Every thing was excellent, and served in 
good style. I mention this fact to show that there are com- 
forts — luxuries even — to be found in the midst of the misery 
and starvation of which I have spoken. The higher class 
live in great splendor. Not many landlords lost their meals, 
winter before last, while starvation carried off its thousands. 
But I confess the thought of the extreme wretchedness we 
had witnessed did not add much to the relish of our meal. 
Yet the exercise of the day, and the long time we had passed 
without eating, created an appetite too strong to be mas- 
tered by sympathy, and in the weakness of poor human na- 
ture, we indulged a little at the expense of our principles. 
It is easy to adopt theories, which we find it difficult to 
practice. Feeling too often controls judgment, and rules 
action, despite the dictates of reason and the pleadings of 
benevolence. Such is man ! 



132 AN EARLY WALK. 



1 



CHAPTER VI. 

A SUNDAY IN IRELAND. 

An Early Walk. — A Grand Scene. — A Lonely Girl. — Character. — Difficul- 
ties. — A Remedy, — Sir Richard. — Killarney. — A Crowd. — The Church. — 
A Little Boy. — Leaving. — Bigotry. — A Retrospect. — A Poor Family. — 
Tralee. — A Scene of Misery. — The Church. — A Walk. — The Chances. 

May 21. — The exceeding weariness of the flesh, the ex- 
citement of the mind, the lateness, quahty, or quantity of 
cm' seven o'clock dinner, so troubled my slumbers that I 
found little rest of body, last night. So I rose before the 
sun, performed my " daily ablutions," and started out, while 
the rest were wrapt in unconscious slumbers. I met multi- 
tudes of the peasantry, going to the town to attend Mass, 
some of whom had come six or seven miles, from the moun- 
tain glens, at that early hour. Their personal appearance 
was but little changed from yesterday, except the men had 
on clean linen, and most of the women white kerchiefs over 
their heads. 

I strolled off towards the mountains, on the road to Ken- 
mare, passed the mansion of Mr. Herbert, the Turk water- 
fall, and wound round Turk mountain, close by the shores 
of the middle lake, through a natural forest of firs, and 
kept along near the stream which issus from the upper lake. 
The valley is called Derrycunehey, from a very romantic lit- 
tle waterfall of that name. At every step the scenery changed, 
becoming more and more wild, secluded, and enchanting. 

At length the upper lake opened to view. My progress 
was arrested by the majesty and grandeur of the scene, 
and I stood upon an eminence in the road, and gazed, in 
the most profound admiration, completely entranced by the 
beauty and splendor of the view. Behind, I had a view 
of the lower and middle lakes, the islands, the tower of 
Ross castle, the town, and fields beyond. On either side 
arose, close by me, steep mountains, covered with ragged 
rocks, shrubs, and herbage. Before me, the placid lake, ex- 



A SUBLIME VIEW. 133 

tending two or three miles along the narrow valley, and not 
more than half a mile wide — in some places but a few 
rods. At the head of this valley opens the famous Gap 
of Dunloe, on the right, and on the left, the still more wild 
and striking Commedhuv, or Black Valley. Beyond these 
are McGillicuddy's Reeks, the highest of which is Carran 
Tual, whose proud summit was already wreathed with the 
red rays of the morning sun. The striking combinations 
of lakes and mountains, fields and forests, rocks and rills, 
castle and cottages, formed a picture of mingled grandeur 
beauty, and desolation, such as human eyes rarely look 
upon. Every thing is unique and surprising. Whatever 
can delight the vision, and wing the wildest fancy for the 
strange and beautiful in natural scenery, is here commingled 
in close proximity and I'ich profusion. And not merely the 
profile of the diversified and sublime landscape pleased me, 
but the varying hues and sounds of that hour completely 
entranced me. 

At the bottom of all were the deep blue waters of the 
lakes, studded with innumerable rocky islets, tufted over 
with grass, and their jagged banks fringed with the royal 
fern, and taller shrubs and trees ; the mirror-surface, un- 
ruffled by a breeze, reflected the shadows of the groves and 
mountains ; then the dark fir- wood, and native forest trees; 
the naked rocks and overhanging cliffs ; the purple heather, 
climbing up to the top of the highest reeks, around which 
the sun's red ra}s were wrapt in a mantle of glory ; the 
deep, shadowed dells and mountain gorges, down which 
leaped the foaming rills in numerous cascades ; the white 
cabins, far out on the plains among fields of varying forms 
and hues ; the gray old tower of Ross ; the forester's cot- 
tage, far up the side of the southern hills, with its white 
pillars, green lawn, scattered shade trees, and gay arbors, 
backed by the receding hills. 

While gazing on this scene the church-bells commenced 
their chimes, the sounds floating through the solemn still- 
ness of that quiet hour, far over the plain and lakes, waking 

12 



134 nature's temple. 

the mountain and woodland echoes, and dying away like 
the expiring note of the swan ; the occasional bleating of 
the lambkins, as they sported along the hill-side, just over 
the lake, and the twittering of birds amo.ng the trees, all 
combined to enrich a scene worthy of the day which com- 
memorates the triumph of mortality over the gloom and 
sadness of the grave. Now broke forth the sound of hu- 
man voices, male and female, growing more and more dis- 
tinct, till, around a point just beyond me, they commenced 
a wild, Irish air, whose soft and pathetic melody echoed 
from the finest chords of my heart, and stirred emotions 
never experienced before. The wildness, grandeur, sweet- 
ness, sublimity, and harmony of that scene surpassed all I 
had ever conceived before. Enhancing all, was the thought 
that I was alone and a stranger, on the morn of God's holy 
day — my first Sabbath in a foreign land — standing in his 
own temple, so bountifully and gorgeously decorated for the 
pleasure and benefit of man. Fit was it, at such an hour, 
and amid such associations, to worship Him who dwells 
not in temples made with hands, but fills immensity with 
His glorious presence ! Oh ! the bliss of such an hour ! 
No pen can describe it ! The undevout soul could not feel it ! 
I stood, wrapt in the devoutest contemplation, till the 
song suddenly ceased, and two stalwart men, two young 
women, and a little girl came round the bend of the road 
near where I was, two yearlings and a pig preceding them, 
which they were driving into the mountains. They were 
rudely dressed, but appeared jocund and happy. Each had 
a budget in hand ; all were barefoot, and the women had 
no covering for their heads. I walked on vi'ith them some 
distance, but they could not speak a word of English. 
They turned off by a foot-path, near the head of the upper 
lake, and went on towards Commedhuv. I kept the road, 
passed a miniature castle of recent erection, attached to the 
estate of Lord Kenmare, and ascended from the secluded, 
mountain-locked valley of Derrycunehey, up the southern 
barrier of hills, to the Police station — a sort of civil fortifi- 



A SERVANT GIRL. . 135 

cation — for all over Ireland, in country as well as city, po- 
licemen are every where to be met, dressed in their sleek, 
close- buttoned blue coats, with standing collars, ornamented 
with the number of the station to which they belong, and 
high-crowned felt hats, the tops covered with glazed leather 
— generally a trim, good-looking, w^ell-fed, kind-hearted set 
of indolent fellows, who have no cares nor business of their 
own, and so look after their neighbors', at the public 
charge. 

For several miles I walked in company with a young 
woman, who had come from Killarney that morning, and 
was going to Kenmare to visit her brother, whom she had not 
seen in three years, though living within twenty miles of 
each other. She was dressed in the common style of the 
peasantry — a dark calico frock, "pinned up," to keep it 
clear from the road, a white kerchief over her head, tied 
under her chin, a small, coarse shawl over her shoulders, a 
bundle in hand, and no shoes on her feet. She was modest 
and bashful, and did not enter very readily into conversation. 
But when she learned that I was from America she became 
more social, and made many inquiries about different per- 
sons whom she once knew, now living there. She has the 
most extravagant ideas of the wealth of our country, and 
the generosity of the people. Her brother, whom she was 
going to visit, is intending to go to America next year. She 
wished she could go with him. He had partly promised to 
take her, but she feared he would not be able. 

She informed me that she worked ai service in a family, 
and received £2 a year, of which she could not save 
much above her clothing ; and what she did save went to 
help support her parents. I asked her what they would do 
if she left them. She thought she could earn enough in 
America in a year to send and get them, for she had heard 
that servants had £lO and £l2, ($50 or 160,) a year. 
When I told her many good girls received £l5, and some 
even more, she was greatly delighted, and expressed the 
strongest wish to be able to get there. She said she would 



136 DARK PROSPECTS FOR THE POOR. 

not buy another dress, but keep every penny, so as to go 
with her brother, if possible. She would submit to any 
amount of work, if she could only get from Ireland with 
her parents, and live in America. And she spoke of it 
with all the earnestness and confidence of one who is going 
from misfortune and adversity into circumstances of ease 
and affluence. 

Poor girl ! I fear she is doomed to disappointment ! The 
land which, in her young and ardent soul, she has pictured 
so vividly with all that heart can wish, or wealth and free- 
dom bestow, will be found, in many respects, to come far 
short of her expectations. But she can not suffer by the 
change. She can not be denied more of the comforts of 
life than now ; nor can her prospects be half so dubious. 
I gave her what advice I thought needful ; directing her to 
seek out a good family, when arrived in America, prove 
herself faithful, try to serve them in the best manner, for- 
get the habits and notions of the country left behind her, 
possess herself of what information she could, and so lay 
the foundation for a useful, respectable, and happy Itfe. I 
gave her my address by her request, which she received 
with many thanks, saying she should keep it, and if I had 
no servant in my family she should be most happy to serve 
me. 

On my way back, I could not banish her, and those in 
like condition, from my thoughts. Here are thousands 
and millions of human beings — our Father's children — my 
brothers and sisters — suffering under circumstances the 
most oppressive and intolerable. A few months ago, mul- 
titudes perished of hunger ; and now not half are properly 
fed with the plainest food. They are doomed to the most 
abject servitude by the workings of a system of wrong 
from which there is no escape, but by expatriating them- 
selves to seek an asylum in a foreign country. Fortunately 
they have no homes, no loved domestic hearths to leave 
behind. They hate their miserable cabins, and the lords 
who oppress them. There is not left a link to attach them 



IMPROVEMRNT OF CONDITION. 137 

to their native shores. They flee like captives escaped 
from cruel bondage, cheered by the fancied prospect be- 
fore them, of comfort and competence. Alas, that they 
should so soon awake, in the dark, dirty lanes and base- 
ments of our cities, to the sorest disappointment ! 

And yet it is not all disappointment to them. They do 
not act and live like our native citizens. They deny them- 
selves the means of what we call a decent livelihood. But 
to them, compared with their condition here, the change is 
greatly in their favor. It is to be deeply deplored that emi- 
grants are not better qualified to enter on a course of pro- 
cedure more certain of securing a comfortable living, and 
making them good citizens. But they are not, and there is 
little prospect they ever will be. It is the choice of evils. 
Shall they stay here and starve, or go to our land and wade 
out of their ignorance and misery ? They choose the latter, 
and the dictates of a common humanity should make us 
willing to receive them — as they are — and help them what 
we can, in the many ways offered by the advantages of a 
new and growing country. Our free schools can educate 
their children, our canals and railroads give work to their 
working men ; our unsettled prairies produces bread and 
meat for their mouths, our cotton plantations and sheep 
pastures, clothing for their backs. 

But they must learn to help themselves and us. They 
must abjure their clannishness, repudiate their bigotry, and 
be willing to conform, like good citizens, to the requisitions 
of our free, liberal, and equitable institutions. They can 
not do all this without being taught. In vain is it to blame 
them, reproach them, or cast them off. How many a poor 
servant girl has pined in sadness, till completely discouraged, 
on account of the harsh treatment of those who should 
have taken some pains to instruct the poor creatures in the 
rudiments of our domestic affairs. They have had no 
means of knowing. The first letters in the alphabet of com- 
fortable living look strange and unfamiliar to them, and it is 
too much to expect they will be able to manage every thing 

12* 



138 IRISH TALENT. 

exactly to another's liking. How can they cook our meats, 
and make our pies and puddings when they have lived all 
their days on " praties" or oat-meal stir-a-bout, and occa- 
sionally a little milk — not tasting of bread once a month, 
nor meat twice a year ? How can they scrub, sweep, and 
dust our parlors, when they have always lived in a single 
room without floor or furniture ? How can they feel full 
confidence in their new employers when so long accus- 
tomed to oppression, abuse, and contempt ? 

I marvel that the Irish are able to do so well as they do. 
They have need to be taught ; and they are not the most 
untractable creatures on earth, when once we have their 
confidence ; neither are they all treachery and deceit. 
They have many good qualities, which patience and atten- 
tion, mixed with kindness and forbearance, will bring out in 
due time. They are not dumb ; but have wit and talents, 
which, under a genial cultivation, will elevate them many 
degrees above what they are, and rapidly, in the scale of 
social and moral excellence and usefulness, and make them 
respectable citizens of our great Republic. 

I do not rate them too high. I have seen the depth of their 
degradation. I know the accusations charged against them. 
My soul has been made sad, by a knowledge of their true 
characters. I have wept over their low estate. But for 
all this, I believe the Irish may be redeemed, and elevated. 
From their ranks have risen some of the highest ornaments 
of the present or past generations. Their orators have 
swayed senates, convinced juries, and moved multitudes 
equal to any in the three kingdoms. Their speeches abound 
with as many facts, as sound arguments, as brilliant meta- 
phors, as smooth periods, as can be found in the language. 
They have had statesmen, jurists, generals; poets, priests, 
and patriots ; artists, historians, and philosophers who have 
done credit to humanity. And they have exhibited a spirit 
of long-suffering and patient endurance under oppression 
and difficulty which do honor to the Christian name and 
profession. 



VAIN ATTEMPTS AT REFORM. 139 

Ignorant, bigoted, and debased as they may be, they are 
not all depravity — -not sinners above all people. They have 
hearts which sometimes beat heavily, throbbing with the 
deep pulsations of a living, but crushed humanity. They 
often writhe in bitter agony under the monstrous burdens 
of an inexorable necessity, which has been accumulating 
for centuries, till the last link has been fastened, and the 
chain of their misery and infamy is complete. They have 
no ability to rise and redress their wrongs ; no means of 
concentrating what power is left them. They are poor, 
degraded in their own eyes, and suspicious of one another. 
They have strong local feelings, adhering to their clan like 
the wolf to her lair ; and, worst of all, their religious pre- 
judices will not yield to the force of argument, the plead- 
ings of humanity, or the voice of God, unless it comes to 
them by the mouth of a priest, in a line of direct succes- 
sion. 

I pity them, but I see no hope for them ; not a ray which 
betokens the coming of a better day for their nation. 
Great things are reported of Repeal and Revolution. But 
it is all in vain. Ireland can not be free. It would not long 
remain so if it was. The elements of national existence 
and prosperity are not in them. They wish well, but how 
to perform they know not. They have indistinct glimmer- 
ings of a better state, and their O'Briens, and O'Connels, 
and Mitchells, and Meaghers, startle the monotony of their 
supineness and misery like the jerkings of a galvanized body. 
They open their eyes only to look upon the ghastliness of 
their political, social, and moral death— to contemplate with 
horror the festering corruption of the charnel they live in, 
which but for their wrongs, would be the gem of earth, the 
palace of the nations. 

Oh dark, mysterious Providence ! Thy ways are incom- 
prehensible! A whole nation groans in misery, and no 
hope is left them but in self-banishment ! They must for- 
swear this beautiful land of their birth, which denies them 
a precarious living, and seek an asylum on another conti- 



140 A GENERAL REPROACH. 

nent ! Oh, tyrant power ! Are there no limits to thy base- 
ness, no deed too dark and damnable for thee to perpetrate ? 
Wilt thou revel in pride and luxury for ever, and leave thy 
millions to toil in ignorance, corrupt in vice, and starve in 
famine ? 

What a spectacle is here ! What a burlesque on civili- 
zation, freedom, Christianity — words familiar to English 
ears, and most frequent in the vocabulary of her states- 
men. The canvas of her navy is spread in every harbor; 
her armies conquer in battle ; the Indies tremble at the roar 
of her cannon ; her exchequer regulates the finances, her 
merchants the commerce, her manufactures the products, of 
the world ; on her " empire the sun never sets." 

Such is her boasting ; and yet in the same breath her 
statesmen say she can do nothing to prevent or relieve the 
distresses of Ireland ; to lighten her burdens, to recompence 
her toil, to remove her ignorance, or dispel her gloom? 
Shame on the wisdom and philanthropy of such a nation ! 

But to England belongs not this reproach alone. It falls 
alike upon all. We feel it at home, in our three millions 
of slaves — God's image reduced to goods and chatties, and 
traded for in the mart like so many sheep ! Horror ! where 
is thy dagger? Nay, we see it in our northern states, in the 
multitudes cooped up in narrow garrets, called out by the 
ring of the bell to toil fourteen weary hours in heated rooms ; 
to live upon scanty fare, or pine away, when banks are tight 
and markets dull, on the very brink of starvation ; while 
the sons and daughters of cotton lords grow up in indolent 
luxury, proud and arrogant in their positions. 

But, thank the Lord, not there as here, is there an entail- 
ment of these evils by hereditary properties, hedged about 
with barriers which can not be passed. With us there is 
a chance to rise, and they who are our workers — our arti- 
sans and yeomen, to-day, may be our guides and rulers to-- 
morrow. Englishmen laugh at this idea, but her millions 
at home, and in Ireland and Scotland, weep in despair for 
lack of it. The monstrous injustice of entail and primo- 



RETURN. 141 

geniture to keep up rank — the feudal claims ot the nobility 
— are the direct and principal cause of all the crime and 
misery of these masses. 

The first reform that Ireland needs is the breaking up of 
these immense estates, to pay off, by the actual transfer of 
landed property, the vast debts of these bankrupt landlords. 
All others are vain and worthless without it. If the poor 
could not buy a single acre, a class of men would do so for 
the investment in property which could not fail to yield a 
handsome income. And their interest would become 
blended with the prosperity of their tenants, to some 
extent, greater than now, and thus would be found a 
partial, but not a radical cure of the evils which have 
fallen upon this people. Other reforms would follow, and 
Ireland would become a united, prosperous, and happy na- 
tion, the right arm of England, and loyal to a fault. 

Such were some of the reflections which occupied my 
thoughts, as I returned from the summit of the hill com- 
manding an extensive view to the south, over Glengariflf 
and Bantry Bay, and from which the road descends into a 
deep valley towards the village and bay of Kenmare, to 
Skibbereen and the rough promontories about Cape Clear. 
I had ample time for many comments ; for, unconscious of 
the distance, I had wandered some eight or ten miles from 
our hotel, and now found myself so wearied, that I was 
obliged to sit down several times upon a wayside rock to 
rest my wearied limbs. 

The scene had greatly changed. The sun was risen 
high, and, through a thin mist which hung about the reeks, 
the rays were so reflected as to produce a beautiful rain- 
bow, which seemed to be painted upon the dark side of 
Purple mountain, with one foot resting in the narrow deli 
of the Gap of Dunloe. The appearance was novel and 
exceedingly beautiful. In fact, every thing about this 
rough and secluded glen is wild, diversified, and singularly 
picturesque. Not least among the attractions of that hour, 
was the death-like stillness that prevailed. The music of 



142 DEPARTURE. 

birds had ceased ; the bleating of lambs I heard no more , 
and the echoing strains of the distant church-bell had died 
away. Not the murmur of a breeze disturbed a single 
leaf. Nothing but the pattering of the little rills, as they 
leaped down the ragged rocks which overhang the road, 
and the resounding of a distant cascade, mingled with the 
rumbling of my own footsteps as I passed over the under- 
ground ledges, which, in childhood, we called the " hollow 
ground," affrighted me. In one place, the road passes 
through a tunneled rock several rods, and, in another, over 
a high bridge, which spans a deep gorge from the mountain. 
In the whole distance the road passed but one or two huts, 
and the new tower of Lady Kenmare. Nothing relieves 
the solitude of this glen, but every thing is wrought out in 
a varied and romantic grandeur which never tires. 

I trudged on, and, at half past ten o'clock, reached 
the Muckruss hotel, to the great comfort of my com- 
panions, who were becoming alarmed for my safety, not 
knowing whither I had gone. The cottiers had returned 
from mass, and several were in waiting to serve us. Sir 
Richard was on hand, ready to conduct us whithersoever 
it should please us to go — to the Eagle's Nest, Commedhuv, 
the Gap of Dunloe, or any where else. And Mary, attired 
in her Sunday suit, improved most by a smooth, white ker- 
chief over her head, and still barefoot, stood modestly by 
the corner of the road, with her mug of milk, covered by 
her clean apron. One or two others, more bold, came to 
the courtyard of the hotel, and stood among the men, near 
the gate. All looked sad when they learned that we should 
take no more rambles ; but, after church in the town, go on 
to Tralee. 

After breakfasting, as about to mount the car which was 
to take us away, many of the people commenced the most 
importunate beggary, entreating us, in the name of God 
and by the hopes of eternity, to bestow something upon 
them. Saddest in the group, stood Sir Richard Courtenay. 
He looked the picture of despair. His spirit had failed him. 



DISHEARTENING. 143 

His hopes were fled. His fair prospects ot several days' 
employment were all destroyed. He could scarcely speak. 
He had supposed we were to imitate those who come 
and linger here for weeks — Mrs. Hall, and others, whose 
excellencies he praised very highly. And, as our benefac- 
tions had been rather liberal so far, he expected to reap a 
good harvest from men who had come so far to see the 
beauties of Killarney, and who entered so deeply into the 
wants and sympathies of the people. These expectations 
were all suddenly demolished, and he could not see where 
others would be awakened, as the troblous times keep 
every body at home. 

And Mary felt bad. Another cloud had darkened her 
prospects of getting to America. Perhaps she thought we 
were ungenerous, that we could give her a few pounds as 
well as not — people often think so of those they count 
rich. But she did not beg nor murmur. It was plain, 
however, that she felt sad under her disappointment ; that 
her heart, which grew light at the encouraging prospect I 
presented yesterday for her getting away from her wretch- 
edness with her mother, was again heavy as lead. Her 
voice trembled ; her eyes gathered tears ; her whole coun- 
tenance was sad. I gave her a paltry sixpence, and felt 
condemned when I did it, for I appreciated the force of the 
strange inequality which prevails among men. Was it 
brotherly in me to give so meanly, to one so worthy and 
miserable ? But there were many others in as low condi- 
tion. I could not give even a sixpence to each, and reserve 
enough to return home by the most direct route. And so 
I justified myself with the reflection that " discretion is the 
better part" — of charity as well as valor. We distributed 
some pennies, which only whetted the beggarly appetites 
of these impoverished creatures, and made them more 
rampant in their entreaties. We did not get rid of them 
till we hade adieu, and our car drove off" at a rapid rate. 

These were but the initiatory scenes — the prelude to the 
grand dramas of human misery and degradation, I will not 



144 SUBMISSION UNDER WRONGS. 

say depravity, which were yet to be enacted before us. 
These people are not so depraved as they might be ; not so 
much so as their wretched condition would seem to indicate 
— almost to justify, in the scale of worldly reckoning. I 
wonder they are so forbearing, so indulgent towards their 
oppressors as they are. It is because oppression and suffer- 
ing crush the spirit, and make a man despise himself In 
other times, and in other lands, there would be no safety 
for the haughty, domineering nobility, who live in splen- 
dor among these starving millions. I am surprised to see 
the extremes of wealth and poverty, pride and misery, 
knowledge and ignorance, arrogance and degradation, 
dwelling in such close proximity, and so much peace abid- 
ing the unholy mixtm"e. It is, doubtless, well it is so, for 
rebellion, anarchy, and vengeance are always to be de- 
plored. They are the worst, the unsafest means to redress 
a wrong, overcome an injury, or gain a right. They but 
enhance the evil they vainly seek to correct. It is the 
gradual warmth of spring that melts the snow, and awakens 
vegetation into life and beauty. 

All was peace, and quiet, and beauty, from Cloghereen to 
Killarney. The whole distance is a continual succession 
of elegant mansions, charming pleasure-grounds, and rich 
fields in the highest state of cultivation, all of which ap- 
peared to great advantage on this calm and delightful spring 
Sabbath-day. The entrance to the town, by a long wind- 
ing avenue of stately shade trees, whose venerable branches 
interlock over the road, is remarkably beautiful, and the 
first appearance of the houses at that end of the main 
street is not bad. They were originally built with some 
respect to order and comfort. But as we advance into the 
central and farther part, the scene changes and every thing 
bears the marks of penm*y, filth, and indolence. 

We drove to some sort of hotel, near the post house, 
where we were beset by several men to go to this place or 
to that, and by ragged boys and girls to give them a " ha'- 
penny." The men supposed we had just arrived in town. 



A RETURNED EMIGRANT. 145 

and as we had stopped at neither the King's Arms, or Ken- 
mare Arms, nor gone to the Victoria, we were, therefore, 
lawful plunder for any of the smaller inns and boarding 
houses. A regular row was created among the crowd, of 
which we were the innocent cause. 

Two men came to blows, but were soon separated by the 
interference of the police. Each contended that his house 
was the most respectable, but found it difficult to sustain his 
claim, because, as is most common in all similar cases, there 
was no great respectability to either. One of the rival 
combatants had lived in America, and therefore claimed to 
have a great affection for us, and a right to our patronage. 
He was willing to do us any service in his way, if we would 
" put up" at his house, and would be especially careful to 
keep us from being imposed upon by his countrymen. The 
other asserted, and many voices sustained the opinion, that 
he kept a low, drinking and gambling house, and that no " da- 
cent gintilmin" would disgrace himself, by visiting it. The 
appearance of the returned tavern-keeper was unfavorable 
to his honesty, and we remembered that his class at home 
were not necessarily well educated in the morals of good 
hotel-keeping, though he was exceedingly boisterous in his 
praises of oui* country and countrymen. We wondered he 
did not stay there, and the fellows about us denounced 
him because he did not, saying he had come back to "chate 
his jwour coounthrymin, when he might a betther staid till 
Amiriky an soo left room for others/' Another, said "his 
coonduct was soo bad he could not sthay there, they'd not 
kape him." They at once took it that we were against him, 
and so they run him hard, applying all sorts of harsh lan- 
guage, and Irish epithets we did not understand. This he 
could not endure, but became most furious, and defied any 
of them to fight him. We were never so violently beset 
before, nor so nearly connected with a disturbance of the 
peace. A hundred men and boys were gathered about us 
before we had time to consider where we were. We final- 
ly crowded through the mass and deposited our sacks and 

13 



146 A GROUP OF MISERY. 

secured our seats to Tralee, in the mail car, which was to 
leave at two o'clock. The crowd followed us wherever we 
went. We could not return to the Episcopal church, and 
so edged our way across the street, to find a refuge in the 
Catholic chapel, the gate- way of which was guarded by the 
proper officers. 

The old edifice stands back from the street, leaving an 
open court with the buildings of the convent on one side. 
The passage way was lined with the most miserable and 
loathsome set of creatures ever beheld. Immediately inside 
the gate there were three men stationed, who were busy 
collecting pennies in boxes, which they held out to all 
that passed. When a quantity was collected, they emptied 
them into a large chest standing close by them. 

Every phase of human misery was represented there — the 
decrepitude of tremulous dotage, the pale and haggard look 
of recent and severe sickness, the vacant stare of incurable 
idiocy, the pitiful moan of sickly and famishing childhood, 
the crutch of cripples, the gloom of blindness, the loath- 
someness of deformity and destitution. A darker picture 
of complete wretchedness could not be presented to mortal 
eyes. I was overwhelmed to see such a mass collected in 
one spot. It was not without a strong effort I could nerve 
myself sufficiently to contemplate it. I felt an involuntary 
shudder come over me, and, at first, I shrunk from passing 
through it. I have read the imaginary descriptions of 
misery the most odious and profound ; but here was the 
tangible reality — the very centre of it — in sober earnest- 
ness, huddled close about me, and vastly more odious than 
any pen ever delineated. 

Some were seated, counting their beads, and muttering 
their prayers. One old woman, doubled together, was 
smoking a short pipe, apparently as old as herself; another 
was lighting hers. All had little tin cups which they reached 
out to us as we passed by, with an invocation to God to be- 
stow blessings upon us. Their cadaverous visages, snarled 
hair, shriveled trembling hands, patched and ragged clothing. 



THE CHAPEL. 147 

bespoke a degree of destitution and misery which defies 
description. Little children, in tattered, filthy garnaents, not 
half covering their iiakedness, were playing behind them, 
their hands and faces looked as if their parents were unbe- 
lievers in the virtues of cold water. Men and women were 
standing about in groups, talking idly, and others were 
passing in and out, dipping their fingers into the little tin 
cups held out to them by several girls who appeared to be 
stationed there for the purpose, and crossing themselves 
with the " holy water" contained in them. 

The chapel is an old stone building, looking, outside and 
in, as forlorn as the people collected in and about it. The 
ceiling is low, and the wide galleries just high enough to 
clear one's head. The sides are hung about with pictures 
of the most ordinary execution, representing sacred sub- 
jects and legends of the Irish church. There is an attempt 
at display about the altar in the way of paint and tinsel, 
but the appearance is exceedingly untasteful and inappro- 
priate. A dense mass of people, of both sexes, and all ages, 
were huddled together, standing or kneeling on the coarse 
stone pavement, each carrying on his devotions by him- 
self, by prayers, confessions, and crosses, while priests were 
performing at the altar. The crowd was so great we could 
not penetrate far into the church, not sufficiently to hear 
what was going on. 

In the gallery, which is seated, I saw several people who 
were genteelly dressed. I was told those seats were re- 
served for the better class of worshippers. As I looked at 
them, and observed their inattention to the passing services, 
I wondered if, in fact, they were really any better, any 
more religious, than those kneeling on the stone floor. It 
was a difficult question. God knows the hearts of men, 
and discerns the motives which regulate conduct. In His 
eyes the ranks of earth are nothing. He requires all and 
each to act according to capacity and means,, holding 
each responsible for what he has, and not for what he has 
not ; and measuring His rewards and punishments with 



148 INEFFICIENT SYSTEMS. 

equal justice to ail. No proud position, nor feigned humil- 
ity can shield them from His scrutiny, neither can poverty 
or oppression justify the other in wrong. All stand alike 
accountable to Him for the improvement of the talents en- 
trusted to their keeping. There is no excuse for any. 

But I marveled that a system of religion w^hich claims 
such high sanctions — direct and immaculate authority, has 
done so little to estabUsh the " kingdom of God " on earth. 
Certainly, this that I now see is not the kingdom of heaven, 
or else 1 have conceived very erroneous ideas of the nature 
of that kingdom. Here has not been performed the work 
of levelling the mountains and hills, filling the valleys, mak- 
ing the crooked ways straight and the rough places smooth. 
Here is no " highway of the Lord " for the redeemed to 
return and come to Zion ; but all the odious features of 
worldly pride and distinction, of want and wickedness. 
I have seen all this diversity at home ; and I looked for the 
fruits of a religion which claims all precedence — direct 
succession, apostolic authority — and I have been anxious to 
know if it is really more effective in the work of human 
redemption, in ameliorating the condition of those who 
adopted it. It has had centuries for the experiment — ^long 
years undisturbed in the exercise of its prerogatives. Alas, 
for the results ! Do such fruits betoken the purity and ho- 
liness of the true faith ? " By their fruits ye shall know 
them." 

The mail car had arrived, and was standing in the street. 
As we returned from the church, the crowd gathered 
around us, as clamorous in their beggary as before. We 
procured our sacks, placed them in the " well " of the 
car and took our seats. When the multitude found us 
about to leave, a large portion left us. But several hung 
about, with some of whom we entered into conversation. 
Among the number was a little lad, it might be, fifteen 
years old, who particularly attracted my attention. He 
was well formed, and, phrenologically speaking, had a line 
head — large, broad, high, and every way well balanced. 



A FINE LAD. 149 

His features were uncommonly fine, sparkling with intelli- 
gence and beauty. His dress was poor, but decent. The 
patches were all sewed tight ; there were no rags dangling 
about. His shirt was clean, as was common with all, and 
so were his hands, and face, and feet. He seemed anxious 
to inquire about our country, and I indulged him with my 
chief attention. He expressed a strong desire to go there, 
but saw no means by which he could do so. To try him, 
I asked him if he would go with me. 

" Ayeh, yer honor, and serve ye wi' all my soul." 

He spoke very good English, but tinged with the Kerry 
accent, just enough to make it exceedingly pleasing. 

" Will you go with me now — get right on the car and 
start off immediately ? for I am going, you see." 

" Yes, sir ! an' I will run an' tell my sister, and come 
right back as fast as I can ;" and he started; 

I called him back, telling him I could not take him, as I 
was going to other countries before I returned ; and I 
needed further recommendations that he was a good boy. 

Many voices answered, saying, " James Mahanna is a 
fine boy, an' ivery body likes him." Even his young com- 
panions, who showed some marks of envy at my partiality 
for him, after rejecting their offers to go home with me, de- 
clared he was the best among them. 

I inquired of him what he could do, and how long he 
would live with me. He said he would do any thing he 
could, and live with me as long as I wished, if I would 
clothe him and give him enough to eat. He said he could 
read and write a little, but, since his parents died, he had 
not been at school much, as he could not pay the tuition, 
and it was all his sisters could do to support themselves. 

I asked him if he could work. He said he could when 
he could get any thing to do, and that was not often, as 
there were so many more who vv^ere always looking out 
for jobs. Several by-standers assured me he was a very 
faithful boy. One of his sisters worked from home, he told 

13* 



150 A DOUBTFUI- PROSPECT. 

me, for £2 a-year ; and the other did what she could in the 
town. One was twenty, the other eighteen. 

" An' very cliver gearls they are," said a middle-aged 
man, who till then had not spoken, though he had observed 
closely all that had been said ; " an' it's the kind thing 
yer honor'll do, an' he takes the young lad till Amiriky. 
It's a smaart man he'll be afther makin', it is, an' ye geve 
him a chance." 

The boy looked pleased at receiving such a direct re- 
commendation ; for the man who had spoken seemed to 
share largely the confidence of those about him. An other, 
coming nearer to me, said, " It is soo, yer honor. Misther 
O'Donnelly has said thruly, an' ye may bleve ivery word 
uv it. Ye may, an sure Jam is a good boy, an'll do all yer 
honor likes of him." 

Several others attested to the good character of the lad, 
and all seemed glad at the good fortune which seemed to 
await him. There is scarcely a man or boy, or young 
woman in the country, among the common people, who 
would not esteem it great good fortune, almost a mark of 
a special Providence, to be offered an opportunity to go to 
America under such circumstances as these. 

My heart was pained to think the hopes which had been 
awakened, the brightest, probably, he ever had, must be so 
soon disappointed. I am not quite sure I did right, but I 
could not find it in my heart to blast them all at once Per- 
haps I did wrong to say so much ; but it was no more than 
what every body is talking about, but many dare not hope 
for. I took the name of the lad, and promised, if I found 
it convenient — what a miserable excuse — I would send for 
him in season to meet me at Liverpool, so as to return with 
me. He was delighted with the idea, and wanted to know 
if I would not also take his sisters, to work at service in 
my family. This I thought I might as well encom-age, and 
so told him if I sent for one I would send for all. 

" An good servants ye'll have," said the former speaker. 



MORAL DEPRESSION. 1'51 

'' Betther can't be foound in all the kingdom — I know them 
weel-a-bit these many yares." 

" Tis the same I'd like to spake yer honor ov um. It's 
joost over the strate from them I live. Sorra a comfort 
have the darlints had since the good Lord took their blissid 
mither up to heaven. 'Tis wishin some kind gintilmin, like 
yerself, would take these poour childers till Amiriky, I've bin 
these many days. The blissid mither'U sure remember ye." 

Much more was said to the same purpose, for, when these 
Irishmen start on a course there is no end to the race. 
They are most extravagant in their praise or condemna- 
tion, and neither is willing to be outdone. I was surprised 
to admiration at the interest manifested in behalf of the lad, 
who, I have no doubt, deserved all the encomiums bestowed 
upon him. But it is not often that we see such proofs of 
disinterestedness among the Irish. Necessity has forced 
them into the narrowest selfishness, though naturally they 
have generous hearts — for their immediate friends, at least, 
and lofty ideas of personal distinction. But how can people, 
so oppressed, and starved, and ignorant, and superstitious as 
they are, cultivate the higher virtues, the loftier sentiments, 
the nobler qualities of human nature, or even keep them- 
selves, under such untoward circumstances, from depravity 
and shame. It is a marvel that the Irish are no worse than 
we find them ; that they are not more fierce and cruel than 
the savages of the wilderness, for they are not without 
provocation. Christianity, disguised and disfigured as it is, 
has a powerfully restraining influence over them, and keeps 
them back in so many cases, from the grosser crimes of 
vengeance. They have learned much of long-suffering, 
and patient endurance in the schools of experience, under 
whose severe discipline they have been writhing for cen- 
turies. The ministers of religion have taught them " to ab- 
dicate all right and title to their own will — to their actions, 
— nay to their own thoughts — to be no longer their own 
masters, but in perpetual obedience" to others. They 
have learned their lessons too well, as their deplorable con- 



152 UNDUE INFLUENCE. 

dition testifies to all, wherever they go. They have lost 
that manliness, that self-reliance, and immediate dependence 
upon God, which looks above the wrongs and outrages of the 
world, and seeks in Heaven's name to over-master them. 
The command of a supposed superior has become to them 
the will of God, and so they tamely submit to the wrongs 
and burdens piled upon them ; till, at last, the hope of a de- 
liverance has vanished, and despair and beggary have taken 
its place. 

The effect of Romanism has been, and always will be, to 
produce the most abject subserviency, wherever its control 
is unresisted. It demands, as cited above, the annihilation 
of all individualism, and an entire submission to the will of 
another whom it acknowledges as master. Through the 
accepted superior, the command of God comes to them ; and 
they become the supple tools in the hands of the skillful 
and designing, to work out the problems of pride and oppres- 
sion. 

And every other system which fetters the liberty of the 
will, enslaves the conscience, or binds down the soul by 
forms of faith, or rules of practice, by mere authority, other 
than the force of truth and the conviction of right, becomes 
the tyrant by usurping what belongs to God alone ; no mat- 
ter if assent has once been given, seriously or thoughtless- 
ly. When convinced by further developments, of the form- 
er wrong, the reserved right which God holds in his own 
hands and delegates not to another, is resumed, and His 
authority appealed to. Study, reflection, patient investiga- 
tion, prayerfully pursued, may lead to new discoveries of 
truth, which nothing but the grossest bigotry would prevent 
one from adopting. 

It is a most daring assumption for any man, or set of 
men, to pretend to apprehend all truth — to possess the right 
to set up barriers beyond which another may not go, but at 
his peril. None but one who thinks himself infallible, or in 
the exercise of a "divine right" will have the audacity to 
step between God and his child, to disturb the sacred rela- 



PERSONAL FREEDOM. 153 

tion which exists, as is acknowledged in the gospel. If 
kings or prelates could exhibit the proof of knowledge suf- 
ficient to determine for all others; and did they never 
change their plans, nor alter their views, there would be, at 
least, some consistency in their claims. But when they are 
as unsettled, fluctuating, and wicked as the humblest of their 
dependents, and advance by the same means to what know- 
ledge they do possess, who can resign his own judgment — 
shut his own eyes, to follow them ? Did truth come to them 
intuitively or by direct inspiration, there would be some 
reason in the demand to submit to them without question. 
Had they eyes to see while all the rest were blind, we 
would allow them to judge of colors, and would yield with- 
out a murmur. Had they ears while all others were deaf, 
we would not object to their rules of music. But so long 
as they are like us — and we like them, we can not bury our 
identity, or shirk our own responsibility under the shadow 
of their pretended greatness and authority. 

The practical working of these principles, politically, re- 
ligiously, and socially, have been fully tested on Ireland. 
And here the fatal lesson is read in the filthy hovels, tattered 
garments, wan faces, crushed hearts and superstitious ob- 
servances of this whole nation. Not many among them 
feel the dignity and freedom of a child of God. Not many 
dare stand up and say, " In God's name I do it." All say, 
" It is by permission ! I dare not eat meat on Friday be- 
cause the priest says I must not." But there is no longer 
need of such a law in Ireland, for few can get it on that 
or any other day of the week ! 

Irishmen can never rise in the scale of moral excellence, 
till this monstrous yoke is taken from them. When that is 
done, they may begin to hope, for they will/eeZ a freedom 
and a responsibility to which they are now strangers. 
They will start up the ascent of a moral elevation, down 
which they have been forced by the oppressions of church 
and state. Each advance will encourage to bolder efforts, 
till every stumbling-block shall be taken out of the way, 



^^^ AN UNFINISHED CATHEDRAL. 

and they will run fearlessly in the heavenward race, with 
the glittering prize before them. The multitude who bow 
at the tinkling of a bell, or cross themselves at a particular 
signal, in the church, while a service is going on in a lan- 
guage they do not understand, are acting mechanically, not 
from conviction ; not as men should act, whose souls com- 
mune with God, and drink in his spirit of wisdom and lib- 
erty. They are honest, sincere, devout ; and so are the 
worshippers of Budha and the followers of Mahomet. Are 
they wise? Do they comprehend? Is it judgment, or 
habit, free-will or cowering submission? The unbiased 
mind does not hesitate to give an answer. 



TO TRALEE. 



The horse was harnessed to the car ; another passenger 
took his seat with us ; I spake some encouraging words 
to the people ; gave James my hand, in proof of my sin- 
cere regard, promising not to forget him ; and, amid the 
hearty benedictions of the people for a prosperous journey 
and safe return, we started for Tralee, distant nineteen 
miles. 

We passed, on our way, a large, unfinished building, de- 
signed for a cathedral church. Its proportions are im- 
mense. Its style elegant ; but those who commenced its 
erection did not exercise the prudence suggested in the 
Gospel— to count the cost before beginning the work. 
This IS another proof of the wrong of priestcraft. Here 
is a poor, ignorant, degraded, half-starved population. 
They have not the means of procuring the common ne- 
cessaries of life ; most of them can neither read nor write ; 
and yet a tax is laid upon them to rear a stately edifice,' 
which, in architectural beauty and grandeur, shall vie with 
any thing in the country. Immense sums have been ex- 
pended already, and yet the walls are not completed. It 
stands there, another, but yet unfinished proof of the pride 
and fallacy of an arrogant priesthood, for the people had no 



SECTARIAN PRIDE. 155 

voice in the design and execution of it. Tiie old chapel 
is commodious, but inferior in its appearance. It does not 
compare well with the claims of supremacy, nor rank above 
the old church of the Protestants. Forgetting the meek and 
humble spirit of Christianity, which sanctifies even poverty 
and makes it tolerable, it was deemed advisable to erect a 
splendid edifice, which should become attractive to the out- 
ward eye, acceptable to worldly pride, able to flatter this 
simple people with the notion that God has been very kind 
to them, in giving them a building so much superior to their 
neighbors ! 

There might be a seeming fitness in all this — for the 
world and the church do so— if many persons, already im- 
poverished, were not denied the means of subsistence, for 
lack of what is here piled up in wrought stones laid in 
mortar, one upon an other — not for convenience, but for 
pride. It may be too utilitarian to speak thus ; but I can 
not forbear the thought, and hence I may as well utter it. 
It is questionable whether all attempts at display, above 
real comfort, neatness, and beauty, are not, at all times and 
in all places, a violation of the spirit of that religion whose 
founder was meek and lowly, requiring his followers to be 
" not conformed to this world, but transformed by the re- 
newing of their minds," so as to raise another standard on 
the purity of their lives, the sublimity of their hopes, and 
sincerity of their devotions, which should spread above the 
low and sordid pride of earth. God " dwells not in temples 
made with hands, neither is he worshipped by men's hands, 
as though he needed anything." We know that true piety 
seeks no display ; and genuine benevolence does not sound 
a trumpet before its face. Truth can be taught in simple 
words ; goodness enforced by humble actions ; and virtue 
recommended without a grand display. There is much to 
please the eye, and delight the fancy, in the architectural 
symmetry and gay decorations of a massive building; 
something truly grand and overpowering in the perform- 
ance of showy religious rites, as the chants and responses 



156 A POOR HOUSE. 

resound in dying echoes among the lofty arches of an old 
Gothic cathedral ; and one feels his passions stirred, and his 
neart melted to tears, precisely as he does in the theatre, or 
at an Italian opera. In both cases, it is the music and the 
acting that affects him, for he does not understand the lan- 
guage of either. 

But I will not discuss this topic here. Yet I can not 
suppress the thought that there is something strangely in- 
consistent in this attempt to extract from the substance of 
this wretched people, by promises and threats, in public and 
in private, at the confessionals and at home ; involving not 
only their duty and respectability here, but affecting their 
prospect of salvation hereafter. Cases were related to me 
which justify these remarks, and demand the severest re- 
probation. Finding it impossible to wrench from this fam- 
ishing population the means to complete this magnificent 
edifice, an emissary has been sent to America to beg of 
our laboring citizens the adequate amount. Religion, con- 
trolled by misguided and proud partizans, has done strange 
things in this world of ours. 

A little way above the town stands the poor-house — a 
large, new building, very handsomely situated, with fine, open 
grounds about it, well fenced, and very neat. It is the only 
sign of improvement and progress in the place. It looks 
more like a palace than any thing to be seen, not except- 
ing the lordly mansion of the Earl of Kenmare. 

A short distance further, we met one hundred and fifty 
or two hundred boys, from twelve years downward, who 
belong to the w^ork-house. They had been out a mile or 
two, for a walk, under the chai'ge of two or three keepers. 
They were plainly dressed in gray clothes, which looked 
quite neat. They were walking two and two, and seemed 
very social and happy. Two little urchins had becom-e 
leg-weary, and were mounted on the backs of two of the 
largest, who were very frolicksome under their burdens. 
These children are fed and clothed at public charge, and 
taught to read, and write, and work. Their condition. 



RETROSPECTIVE VIEW. 157 

compared w^ith the masses of children, is fortunate. Few 
would object to have their children in the work-house. 
But those who have any property complain bitterly of the 
enormous taxes levied to support the government which 
oppresses them, the church which curses them, and the 
poor-house which makes them all poor. The doctrine of 
legal association finds a hard illustration in the condition 
of Ireland. 

Looking back from the eminence over which we passed, 
the scenery is grand and beautiful beyond description. 
Seen in the clear sunlight of that charming day, every 
thing appeared to good advantage. Gauzy clouds were 
wrapt about the highest peaks, and the shadows which fell 
upon the dark glens contrasted strongly with the clear green 
meadows, the checkered fields, and silvery lakes. Every 
thing was so quiet, soft and beautiful, that I could not resist 
the feeling of highest admiration. The only drawback in 
all that region of natural beauty, and splendor, is the condi- 
tion of the people who dwell there. They, like a blotch 
upon the face of beauty, mar the whole aspect, and leave 
the heart sad, on taking a farewell view, and ever after, 
when memory revisits the scenes of that lovely spot of 
earth. 

I have dwelt at length, perhaps tediously, upon the scene- 
ry about Killarney, because, in itself, it is remarkably fine, 
and being considered superior to any other in the United 
Kingdom, it deserves particular description. Besides it 
surprised me with its peculiar attractions being unlike any 
in our own country, and far more rugged and beautiful than 
1 had expected to see in the Emerald Isle. I had never 
read a particular description of the mountains and rural 
beauties of this country, but always thought of it as low and 
flat, and half covered with bogs and fens, with little variety 
of hill and dale, mountain and plain. What was my sur- 
prise to see these ranges of rocky mountains, piled carelessly 
together, heap upon heap, split up by deep and narrow glens, 
and bordered by overhanging clifis, up whose jagged sides 

14 



1581 PHYSICAL AND MORAL CHARACTER. 

creep the tangled honeysuckle, and wild grape, with glassy 
lakes, whose fretted sides are skirted with trees of most 
luxurious growth, and studded with charming villas, where 
wealth and pleasure find a secure abode. 

With the character of a people we are apt to associate 
the physical character of the country they inhabit. It is 
generally thought there is an air of freedom and lofty ambi- 
tion about mountainous regions which is not breathed in low 
and marshy plains. Looking from that stand-point, who 
would have thought to find more than sixty mountains in Ire- 
land above two thousand feet high, and several attaining to 
more than three thousand feet ? But such is the fact. The 
face of the country is greatly diversified, equ.al to the 
most hilly States of our Union, and the soil is surprisingly 
rich and productive, when tolerably cultivated. There is 
no cause for the misery and degradation which prevails so 
extensively here, except in the monstrous exactions and op- 
pressions of the Government and the Church, and the con- 
sequent ignorance and inanity of the people. 

Heaven has dealt liberally with this land and made it all 
the fancy of poets have said of it, " the Emerald Isle — the 
gem of the ocean." And could a spirit of self-identity, in- 
dependence, and individual responsibility be awakened, and 
the onerous impediments of priests and landlords be taken 
away, this people, naturally so full of wit and endurance, 
would soon rise in the scale of humanity to a rank equal to 
any other nation. As it is, there is little hope of their re- 
generation, except by a removal to other and more favoring 
climes ; nor then, if they take with them the most galling 
chains that hold them back from prosperity — which too 
many of them do — a tame submission to the will of spiritual 
task-masters, and filth, and ignorance in which so many of 
them are content to live. 

Crossing the ridge of hills called Slievemish, not more 
than a dozen miles in extent, we had, from the summit, a 
splendid view of the whole southern range of mountains, 
stretching from Millstreet, west by Killarney, to Valentia, 



A PEN IN THE HIGHWAY. 159 

where they dip into the ocean ; of the Brandon hills on the 
west, and stack hills on the north, with the most delicious 
valleys between. A point not far from us attains an eleva- 
tion of nearly three thousand feet. 

Along the road, for some distance, there is a bleak tract 
of moorland, which is sparsely inhabited and badly cultiva- 
ted. In one place we saw a hut, or pen, built in the Queen's 
highway, by placing boards or rails so that one end would 
rest upon the stone wall, and the other on the ground ; a 
covering of straw and green turf was thrown over these 
sticks, and the house was finished. It was such a one as 
we have seen put up, temporarily, for swine, among some of 
the least thrifty farmers in the back settlements of our 
country. An opening was left on one side for a door- way, 
over which hung a ragged quilt, thrown partly aside, as we 
passed, so that we could look in, and see an old woman sit- 
ting on the straw, her nakedness scarcely half covered by 
the rags she was holding about her. Two other women, a 
man, and several children were about the pen, all of them in 
tattered and filthy garments. The}^ looked as if in a state 
of complete destitution, without food or friend, or a ray 
of hope to kindle a thrill of joy in their hearts. 

As we passed at a rapid rate, they looked up wistfully, but 
were too emaciated to come to the road in season to beg. 
We passed several squads of people, apparently families, 
sitting by the way side, or lying upon the grass, with bas- 
kets and bundles about them. 

These, the driver told us, were families who had been 
turned out of their houses by their landlords, and were wan- 
dering about in search of a home, or for something to do. 
They subsisted by beggary, and often, generally, he thought, 
slept by the road side. We asked him what he thought 
would become of them ? 

" Och, faix, an they'll stharve as many a poour crayture 
did last winther. Twas not sthrange to see um in scores 
along the rood stark dead, an the childers by their sides a 
weeping as their hearts would brake. Yer honors know 



160 DISTILLERIES AND GROG-SHOPS. 

nothing of poour Ireland, as ye sees it now. 'Tis thruth 
I'm telling ye ; sorra a lie in it, at all ; and may the Lord 
have mercy upon my shoul." 

The last part was uttered in a solemn tone, as if he sus- 
pected us of incredulity. We asked why these people 
did not go to the poor house. 

" The alms house do ye mane ? Troth, there's no room 
for um. The divil a one can git in there any hoo. Its 
brim full. Its murther to turn these poour craytures out o' 
doors to stharve. May the hooly mither remimber them ! 
They are cruel bastes, the landlords, begorra, and I'm bould 
to say it ov them." 

A little farther on the country improves, and we passed 
the elegant seat of a Mr. Blennerhasset. I remembered the 
name, as one associated with another in our country, made 
notorious by the basest acts that ever disgraced the annals 
of depravity and crime, in high life ; and also by the elegant 
speech of one of our most distinguished orators, who asked 
" Who is Blennerhasset ?" Whether it was from this part 
of Erin, that the distinguished exile came to a beautiful 
island in the Ohio, which still bears his name, I did not 
learn. But the remembrance was awakened by the men- 
tion of the name of the proprietor of this villa, which, for 
rural elegance, compares favorably with that of his fellow- 
countryman before alluded to. 

Still farther, we passed a large distillery standing back 
from the road, near a handsome grove. This is another 
of the fountains of wrong, whose streams spread poverty 
and crime all over the island, and reduce this poor people 
still lower in degradation. Every where the traveler sees 
siorn boards over doors, with the ominous words, " Licensed 
to sell spii'ituous liquors, and beer, and tobacco." The ex- 
cise tax is one of the heaviest burdens upon the land, 
though it is indirectly levied, and voluntarily paid. It is 
like paying the man who abuses us — " being hanged and 
paying a forty shilling" — purchasing the cause of suffering 
and shame. Still the government carries on an indirect 



TRALEE. 



161 



traffic which it knows to be pernicious, lends it its sanc- 
tion, and, for a miserable fee, protects particular persons in 
the monopoly of making all the drunkards in the country. 
Is not the government " particeps criminis" to all the evils 
which result from the whisky traffic ? How can it es- 
cape ? 

This is a grave matter, and deserves consideration. This 
may not be the place to discuss it, but 1 could not forbear 
the allusion, for the evils are too obvious to escape the no- 
tice of the most careless observer. The systems of legis- 
tion are undergoing great improvements, and a growmg 
philanthropy seeks, by wholesome enactments, to dissuade 
from crime, in order to prevent its punishment. The doc- 
trine of avoidance daily gains importance in the minds of 
wise and judicious law-givers, and, it is hoped, will, some 
day, be so well understood that the evils which now afflict 
this country, and most others, will be taken out of the way, 
that men may do themselves and the community no 
harm. 



TRALEE. 



Tralee is situated in the bottom of a delightful valley, 
about a mile from the head of a small inlet, which sets in 
from the bay of the same name, with which it is connected 
by a ship channel of recent construction. The hills on the 
north rise in gentle undulations ; but on the south, stretch- 
ing off to the west, is a range of abrupt hills, covered 
with brown heather, and dotted with white cabins and 
patches of tilled ground far up towards their summits. 
The town itself shows many signs of thrift I had not ex- 
pected to see, in this part of the country. Some of the 
streets are spacious and regularly laid out, and many houses 
are new and handsome, and the grounds about them are 
tastefully decorated. A fair proportion of the inhabitants 
are well dressed and genteel in their manners. 

I noticed many very handsome women sitting by their 

14* 



162 A SCENE OF HORROR. 

windows, reading, walking in the streets, or present in the 
church. I was surprised at such marks of refinement, so 
unlike the character of the people we have seen since 
leaving Cork. I am sorry to be compelled to add, however, 
that we also saw specimens of destitution, and misery, more 
horrid than any before described. 

In one place we saw an old woman lying on a sort 
of bed, which had been made of old rags, upon some boxes, 
by the side of a yard fence. Two sticks were stuck in the 
ground, on the top of which was placed an old door, the 
other side resting on the fence. This formed her only 
shelter. A ragged quilt was spread over her, which she 
wrapped closer about her as we came near. A dirty cap 
was on her head, beneath it her shriveled, cadaverous face, 
faintly tinged with a hectic fever, one hand, withered to a 
skeleton, lay by her cheek on the coarse pillow of straw, 
which must have been gathered from the stable near by. 
Close to her sat a middle aged, and more decently dressed 
female, who might have been her daughter. She begged 
of us, in the name of God, of the blessed Savior, and the 
Holy Virgin ; in strong words which seemed familiar to 
her, bartering freely the rewards of heaven, for one poor 
ha'-penny, for the sick, and dying woman. The old lady 
muttered some words in answer to our inquiries, which 
were scarcely intelligible ; indicating, however, that it 
was the " will of God," and apparently trying to submit, as 
well as she could, to what she seemed to regard a dire 
necessity. One or two younger women, and some small 
children, gathered around us, perfect pictures of destitution, 
the most abject and loathsome. It was impossible for us to 
contemplate this scene of misery. We had not nerve to 
listen to their tale of wo. What we saw was enough — too 
much almost, for human credulity. 

It was more, by far, than we believed possible in a Chris- 
tian land ; in a town of twelve thousand inhabitants, and 
the capital of Kerry county, close by the elegant mansions 
of opulent merchants and landholders, where fashion and 



AN ANOMALY. 163 

luxury make a fair display ; and only a few rods from 
churches of various denominations, where God is profess- 
edly worshipped, in the name of the merciful Redeemer, 
who gave it as a witness of the divinity of his mission, 
that " the poor have the Gospel preached to them ;" and 
made the standard of acceptance to the honors he came to 
bestow, " I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; thirsty, 
and ye gave me drink ; naked, and ye clothed me ; a stran- 
ger, and ye took me in ; I was sick, and ye visited me ;" 
assuring them, that inasmuch as they had done it unto one 
of the least of his brethren, they had done it unto him. 

Mark our further astonishment, when, as we turned 
away from this place, we saw posted up, close by, and in 
many other places about the town, notices of a sermon 
and a collection for that day, to take place in the Methodist 
church, in aid of " Foreign Missions." My God ! thought 
I, is it come to this, that these poor creatures — thy children 
— are to be laid on boards in the street, and left to starve, 
while christians are called upon, in the name of religion, 
and the hopes of heaven, to give their substance to help 
convert the heathen ? How strangely is the Gospel of thy 
Son interpreted ! How singularly are its commands ap- 
plied ! Is this the evidence of a living, saving faith ? the 
working of that charity without which we are nothing? 
Why will the wise in their generation be sticklers about 
dogmas and forms of worship, while the masses pine in 
ignorance, and die in beggary, for lack of true knowledge ? 
Here is a prolific soil, a genial climate, and every physical 
ability which a bountiful God could bestow, and yet what 
heart-rending scenes of starvation and misery ! what wails 
of oppression ! What appalling horrors ; what stoic in- 
diffei'ence on the part of the better — some times the reli- 
gious, portion of the community ; what inhuman neglect on 
the part of government, which pretends to exercise royal 
protection over her colonies ! 

We turned from this horrid picture, and went away to 
seek some object to divert our minds, and relieve us from 



164 A TROUBLESOME QUESTION. 

the painful feelings which had overwhelmed us. We did 
not succeed. The elegance of some of the public build- 
ings, the court-house, the church, the Catholic chapels, the 
meeting houses of Presbyterians and Methodists, the hos- 
pitals, the Union work-house, the infantry barracks, the 
green park, the fine bay — nothing could eradicate the im- 
pressions of that wretched family, which inhumanity suf- 
fered to remain in the open street, under circumstances 
which appealed so forcibly to every generous and Christian 
feeling for sympathy and relief More than once I turned 
to go back and cut short my means of traveling, by con- 
tributing sufficient to make them all comfortable. But 
then I felt what an insufficient thing is individual charity, 
where there is so much poverty and suffering. I cannot 
avert the evil, turn back the tide, or check the streams 
which are swelling constantly the flood of pauperism 
already spread so widely over this land. The root is 
deeper than I can reach, and useless is the effort of a stran- 
ger to do more than give a drop of comfort as he passes by. 
So I tried to stifle the breathings of what little benevo- 
lence had not been steeled to indifference by the shameless 
beggary we had already been subjected to. The effort 
was vain, for that and other like pictures haunt me still ; 
and by no other principle than that a man's own is at his 
disposal, and judgment does not justify an indiscriminate 
bestowment of his temporal possessions. Of course, the 
history of the past, the philosophy of our political and so- 
cial economy, the doctrines and precepts of our pulpits, 
the conduct of Christians, the judgment and prudent calcu- 
lation of our heads, all join in this opinion upon this subject; 
but still the heart demurs — it will not rest satisfied. There 
are deep feelings which come welling up at the sight of 
such miseries, which relax the tight cords of all our sys- 
tems, and make us pitiful and sad — unless we have the 
means and disposition to afford relief And this feeling is 
not relieved by the fact that one is in the possession of eve- 
ry desired comfort himself, which he claims as the reward 



A SOURCE OF TROUBLE. 165 

of his own industry and i)rudence. The heart will be sat- 
isfied by no such logic, but continues clamorous for the ex- 
hibition of sympathy, and a willingness to share an other's 
wo, and help, by every practical means, to obtain relief. 

The traveler's soul is often imbittered by such scenes of 
degradation and misery. The splendid palaces of kings 
and noblemen, the exquisite beauty of royal galleries of 
art, the bibliothekes of wisdom, and even the grandeur of 
natural scenery, the most powerful antidote of all, are in- 
adequate to erase from the memory such pictures of misery 
as one sees in Ireland. While I write, the endearments 
and comforts of home, the general prosperity of friends and 
country, and the reflection, in the most favorable light, that 
I gave some small expressions of sympathy, can not still 
the warfare in my soul, that there is a wrong, a great and 
crying guilt some where, for which a fearful requisition 
shall be made. The responsibility can not rest on the mere 
passer-by ; and yet, as one among men I feel it. I had not 
means to give, nor power to correct ; but I had a heart to 
feel — but what is feeling, to hungry mouths and grieving 
hearts ? It is bread and clothes they need, and a chance 
to do, more than prayers ! Still there is a power in sym- 
pathy, a virtue in prayer, which bleYid with those deeper 
wants than worldly famine can reach, or any phase of ab- 
stract theology satisfy. A penny bestowed with such a 
grace, brings more real comfort than the cold charity of 
half-a-crown. 

It is not so much to relieve, as to remedy an evil. The 
first is temporary, and as such, may be useful in aiding a 
permanent cure. Ireland's appeal is to the world. Eng- 
land is deaf, and the church is recreant. From the world, 
relief must come — from America in particular, for no other 
has room for them. That is the country of her hope. 
Thither the starved and dying direct their glassy eyes, 
with as ardent devotion and hope as Jew ever prayed to- 
wards Jerusalem, or Moslem towards the tomb of his 
Prophet. Shall the gateways to our immeasurable prairies, 



.166 DIFFICULTY OF IMPROVEMENT. 

SO beautiful in their wildness, and so productive under the 
poorest cultivation, be shut against them, and they be left 
to famish under the yoke of the oppressor ? 

We must not object because they are poor, and ignorant, 
and superstitious. These are reasons why we should re- 
ceive and adopt them, that we may do them good. We 
wish they were better, wiser, neater, more enterprising, and 
less suspicious. They are not, and the choice is to take them 
as they are, with the hope that they will forget their coun- 
try and their habits, and become naturalized by coming up 
to our standard, without trying to drag us down to theirs ; 
or else to leave them here, to fester in their own corrup- 
tions. We regret that they are so reluctant to make the 
proper change ; that they cluster about the narrow lanes 
and purlieus of our cities, instead of dashing off into our 
new country, like the Germans, to improve waste land 
which will repay them well, and make them rich. But, 
trained as they have been, and treated as they are, little 
can be expected of them. They know no better, and too 
few seem disposed to teach them. There is nothing sys- 
tematical in their emigration. They have no matured plan ; 
no distinct object, farther than to get " till Amiriky." 
They speak of it as dying men speak of going to heaven 
— believing the battle will be fought and the victorv won 
w^hen they get there, and a feast of fat things in preparation 
for them. They are directed by instinct, more like birds 
of passage than by well informed judgment, like men of 
reason. 

We passed along a narrow street, bordered by low, dirty 
houses ; the front rooms used for meat stalls, as well as for 
fish and vegetable markets. They were open, and, here 
and there, were suspended quarters of lamb, pieces of veal, 
while standing about were baskets of fish, some potatoes 
and turnips, and any quantity of young cabbage. In the 
same room with ihe marketing were the family, beds and 
domestic utensils — what there were of them — scattered 
about the floor. Many persons were standing about, con- 



IMPOR'J'ANCE OF EDUCATION, 167 

versing, but none appeared to be purchasing meat or 
other articles. Continuing our ramble we saw, what is no 
uncommon thing, pigs eating from troughs, in the rooms 
where the family stayed — they could hardly be said to live 
— called in there for protection against the large and more 
greedy swine squealing outside. In one street, numerous 
specimens of this kind of house-keeping were exhibited, all 
possessing the same general characteristics of poverty and 
social degradation. 

We stepped into one of the Catholic chapels. The in- 
troductory service was over, and a brother was addressing 
the few in attendance on the subject of education. His 
remarks were excellent. He said a great majority of the 
common people, above fifteen, can neither read nor write ; 
few women can read their prayers. This is wrong. Their 
condition can never be improved so long as things remain 
so ; the people must be taught ; the children must all go to 
school, if they do nothing else— ^and much more to the same 
effect. He enforced his remarks as one having authority, 
with powerful appeals to their sense of duty ; an augury 
of better times. I felt relieved. The sermon removed an 
oppressive burthen from my mind. I have wondered the 
pulpit — such a powerful engine, especially in the hands of 
the Catholic clergy — has not been devoted to the popular 
good. I know there is a great responsibility resting upon 
those who are believed to speak by authority from heaven, 
and who are obeyed without inquiry ; but I feared they had 
not done their duty. The exhortations and commands of 
that friar proved that all are not unaware of one of the 
causes of their country's disgrace. 

He was pleading for the parish school, and alluded some- 
what severely to the national schools. I regretted that, but 
still lejoiced on the whole, for knowledge in any form is 
better than ignorance. Could Ireland enjoy, for a single 
generation, the common schools of some of our states, free 
from sectarian influence, and open to all classes, a complete 
revolution would follow, in all the aflairs and prospects of 



168 THE BARONIAL CASTLE. 

that country. It may be the fear of this that prevents their 
establishment. 

Leaving the church, we strolled down the main street, 
which is wide and handsome, lined with stores and dwell- 
ings, many of which were large and elegant, along the 
margin of the canal, whose sides are of hewn stone, to 
the little village of Blennerville — the part of Tralee from 
which the smaller class of vessels pass up ; the larger ones, 
owing to a lack of water, remaining at anchor in the ha- 
ven, a mile or so distant. From the bridge, at the head of 
this inlet, is spread out a scene of rare beauty and richness. 

Several schooners were coming up the bay in the light 
breeze of the evening, whose white canvas contrasted 
finely with the heathery hills beyond. Quite a company 
had collected from the town, along the shore, to enjoy the 
tranquillity and beauty of the setting sun. They appeared 
orderly, social, and happy. Judging from them, and 
all that could there be seen, one would never suppose 
there were such pictui'es of wretchedness as I have de- 
scribed, so near at hand. How little does the cheerful or 
painted countenance tell of the canker that is gnawing at 
the vitals. The hectic cheek makes the consumptive ap- 
pear beautiful to the unpractised eye. 

We returned to the town through a long, narrow street 
of low huts, in which the pigs were eating, as before de- 
scribed, the inmates silting in the same room, and the little 
children playing about with apparent familiarity. Not far off 
is the old castle of the Desmonds, one of the powerful fami- 
lies so famed in the feuds which formerly distracted this part 
of Ireland, during the time of the McCarthys, O'Sullivans, 
and O'Donoghues. On the overthrow of that family, the 
town, castle, and surrounding lands were bestowed, as a 
royal gift, upon the family of Sir Edward Denny, from 
whom it has descended to the present proprietor, who has 
changed the castle into an elegant mansion, and derives 
a vast income from the lease of lots, and other privileges, 
which have quadrupled within a few years past. 



A SERMON. 169 

Passing a large church, of modern erection, we stepped 
in to listen to the evening service, which had already com- 
menced. A woman, serving as sexton, conducted us to a 
seat. The building is in the form of a cross, and very- 
spacious. Not more that seventy-five persons were in at- 
tendance, though fifteen hundred could be accommodated 
comfortably. The preacher, well dressed in silk surplice, 
delivered a sermon, devoted to the explication of the hack- 
neyed doctrine of " Election and Free-will," which he left 
as he found it. He argued that " a free and full salvation 
has been ofiered, and is made possible for the world, for all 
men : — whosoever will, may have it — the gospel is adapted 
to man's fallen nature — but man can do nothing of himself ; 
— all is of grace — God does every thing — man can not 
help God, he can not help himself, for St. Paul says to the 
Gallatians, " If ye do part, and God does part, Christ is be- 
come of none effect to you, his promise is vain." 

These expressions I noted at the time, and commented 
upon them as I went home, thinking of the old sick woman, 
I had seen in the street, and a hundred men or more, stand- 
ing along the middle of it with spades in their hands, like a 
company of raw soldiers on drill, waiting to be engaged 
the next day. What can these people know or care 
about the abstractions and figments of creeds ? and how 
are they benefited by such kind of preaching ? They al- 
ready act, and talk as if they believed they were driven into 
their desperate condition by a fatal necessity, against which 
it is useless to contend, and from the miseries and disabili- 
ties of which, there is no deliverance by any effort of their 
own. After begging most urgently, and presenting their 
wrongs and sufferings, in the most pathetic manner, they 
will always attach a supplementary expression of their faith, 
that " it is the will of God," and submission is their only 
duty. 

The expounder of English state-religion, might have 
been correct, or he might not, in his peculiar views ; but 
one thing is quite certain, that all such pr&aching will avail 



170 MORALITY BETTER THAN CONTROVERSY. 

little for the relief and regeneration of Ireland, without a 
laro-e mixture of those simple truths, and duties so frequent- 
ly and forcibly inculcated in the teachings of the New 
Testament, but so much neglected in modern preach- 
ing. It is a cause of much regret, that the pulpit should be 
so constantly devoted to the discussion of disputed points 
of theology, which have been argued by the ablest minds, 
for centuries, with no nearer approach to any thing like a 
satisfactory adjustment of the difficulties, than in the days 
of St. Athanasius, Luther, and Calvin ; while the weightier 
matters of religion, which relate to the immediate wants 
and ability of the sinful, and suffering, are most wofully 
net^lected. The cry is for immediate relief, for practical 
knowledge, for counsel and comfort, under present and 
pressing necessities. And, if there is any virtue in the sys- 
tem adopted by the " Friend of Sinners," and pursued by 
his faithful Apostles, this good can not be obtained without 
first entering into subtle and ambiguous arguments, and 
disquisitions, upon the abstruse subjects of theology, or at- 
tempting to settle every point in controversy. It is worse 
than living a course of lectures on anatomy over a man 
with a leg-out-of-joint ; or a treatise on dentistry to a man 
with a tooth- ache. 

Better is it, in my humble apprehension, to follow out the 
suggestions of benevolence, to engage, at once, in those 
works which will afford present relief, and qualify the mind 
to receive and appreciate new and profounder truths, and 
estimate more fully the principles of good action. " If any 
man will do his loill, he shall know of the doctrine." All 
Christendom is agitated with bickerings of sects and parties, 
about forms and dogmas, to no profit ; while the people die 
for lack of knowledge. Political interference has been in- 
voked, and the power of state has often been prostituted to 
the regulation of matters of opinion, for which a man is 
responsible to God only. The consequence of all this is 
seen in the condition of the people, wherever such con- 
trol is attempted. And the oldest and most powerful sects 



PRACTICE BETTER THAN THEORY. 171 

give the saddest exhibitions of their abuse of power and 
privilege. 

Behold Italy ; or sit here at my window, and look out 
from the '• Royal Hibernia Hotel," upon that crowd of 
ragged, dirty, ignorant men, who are collected in the market 
place, on this beautiful Sunday evening, with their imple- 
ments of husbandry, anxious to be engaged for to-morrow, 
at the starving rate of a 6d. a day, which they must earn 
or starve. 

See those women in tattered garments, with haggard 
faces, and that gang of smutty children, with bare legs, and 
half-naked bodies, crawling about like a race of inferior be- 
ings, more degraded in their appearance, and less cared for 
than the negroes of Georgia. Think of that houseless 
family before described, and then tell me what these churches 
are doing to remove the curse from this land ; what good 
comes from the discussion of the doctrines of divine sove- 
reignty, human agency, apostolic succession, and such opin- 
ions as divide and distract the church, alienate the hearts 
of kindred, and array one portion of community against the 
other. 

What do these people know or care — what can they know 
about these metaphysical and ecclesiastical questions ? 
They are more concerned about " praties" than dogmas, and 
would give more for a pot of " stir-a-bout," than for all 
the creeds from Athanasius down to Jo. Smith. Their 
wants are immediate and pressing. They have neither 
time, taste, nor talent, to think about such matters. They 
need most, the hand of some good shepherd, to feed and 
comfort them, to lead them into green pastures, and beside 
still waters, some voice to plead their cause in the counsels of 
the nation, to procure the removal of the grievous burdens, 
under which so many stagger and fall, and all the land 
groans in bondage. They need the devotion of an Oberlin, 
who shall teach their children to read, and their men to 
work. 

" To WORK ?" What work is there for them to do ? 



172 DIFFICULTIES. 

They are willing and anxious to work, fourteen hours a day 
for a 6d. and at any kind of service. But this is denied 
them. There is no chance for an Oberlin in Ireland. They 
can not till the sides of these rocky hills, lest they disturb 
the cherished deer of a London sportsman ; they must not 
root out a single bramble or bunch of heather, to plant a 
hill of potatoes, lest they scare the rabbits of the nohle pro- 
prietor, who is, perhaps, a lordly, sporting prelate of the 
church ! 

There is a work the church can do, to which every true 
christian ought to lend a helping hand. These people can 
be instructed to read and write ; to keep themselves clean, 
to I can not finish this sentence, I see so many dif- 
ficulties rising up, one after another, each succeeding one 
more formidable than the last, that, like these depressed 
creatures, 1 yield in despair. How can these people keep 
clean in their floorless, smoky hovels ? Their naked feet 
tread upon the cold ground, and the)'' have neither chairs 
nor bedsteads. Teach them industry ! They have no 
chance to exercise such functions, if acquired. Submission 
is the only practical lesson they can understand. Of that 
they have a most perfect apprehension. If there is any 
virtue in that, the poor Irish are the most virtuous people 
on earth ; for extremest lessons have been given them, and 
they maintain the same dogged stupidity, hugging the fet- 
ters which enslave them, till death or expatriation releases 
their grasp, and sets them free. 

But here is another subject for reflection. The cham- 
bermaid has just come into our room to light our candles, 
and arrange our beds. She is a sturdy, decently dressed 
girl of twenty, or twenty-five. We engaged her in conversa- 
tion, that we might learn something of the condition of this 
class of people. She seemed quite intelligent, and answered 
frankly all the questions we asked her. She said she did all 
the chamber-work and washing, finding the soap and can- 
dles for the rooms, for £6 a year, (-$30) and the " chances," 
some £2 more. She also boarded herself, except her dinner, 



SERVANTS. 173 

which was given her at the hotel. Her " chances," some 
days, amounted to two or three shillings, but frequently she 
got nothing, for, unless the travelers gave it to her directly, 
she rarely ever received any thing. She was, therefore 
obliged to keep watch and see when they were about to 
leave, or else she was pretty sure to fail, as they would 
either give nothing, or the chief servant, or the keeper 
would keep all. 

This system of hotel-keeping is exceedingly annoying. 
A man pays his bill — all that is demanded for every item 
he has had — and when about to leave, the waiter demands a 
fee, and, if no one is about, takes for himself, the chamber- 
maid, and " boots ;" and if he is not off at once, the cham- 
bermaid will be at him, and boots will follow him to the 
coach-office and become clamorous, refusing to believe that 
the chief-waiter has already received his portion. The 
servants have no confidence in each other. They have 
their grades, and poor boots being lowest, is always 
the most suspicious and clamorous. If he finds a traveler 
has left and given nothing, he will chase him, and plead 
and threaten in behalf of both the others, and whatever he 
gets he will keep to himself, be it much or little. To him 
it is lawful plunder. This is all wrong, and the source of 
much unpleasantness to the traveler, especially to one who 
has not been accustomed to such a system of exactions. 

The usual charges are higher than we pay at home, and 
then comes this beggary on the score of right — a demand 
for services rendered. The natives complain of this evil as 
much as Americans, but they understand better how to get 
along at a cheap rate, and without trouble. Another rea- 
son is, the poor people think Americans are not only rich, 
but generous, and as we are obliged to enter our names and 
residences on the books of the clerk, the servants at once 
begin to " calculate their chances." They set the price 
high, and are not willing to be disappointed. Necessity 
knows no law. Their poverty urges them to press their 

15* 



174 A REFLECTION. 

demaTids as long as there is a " chance" left, in utter defi- 
ance of all rules of justice and decorum. 

It is half-past ten, though still light. All is quiet in the 
streets. The moon shines softly, and casts the shadows of 
the buildings along the streets. 1 hear the solemn tramp 
of the lone policeman, which sounds dolefully to a spirit, 
saddened, like mine, by the scenes of the past day. What 
a Sabbath this has been ! I have gazed on the richest 
beauties of nature — the lofty, rugged mountains, piled 
carelessly together, reft with many a gorge and glen ; upon 
the deep, tangled wild- wood, bordering the rocky shores of 
the quiet lakes ; upon the charming green fields and flower- 
gardens, and shaded walks ; upon the palaces of the nobles, 
the low mud hovels of the poor ; the ruins of abbeys, 
castles, and convents ; upon the grotesque masses assem- 
bled for the worship of a common Father, the Maker of all, 
in the name of the one Master and Savior, " who tasted 
death for every man :" upon the new manifestations of 
pride, struggling in the midst of poverty, oppression, and 
famine, to rear a gorgeous temple made with hands ; upon 
whole families — decrepit age, and helpless infancy — house- 
less, friendless, foodless, and in tatters, by the way-side, 
ready to die of hunger and cold, in the midst of wealth, 
fashion, and professed piety ! What a world is this ! What 
scenes of horror, crime, and destitution are in it ! Crushed 
hearts, blasted hopes, hungry mouths, glazing eyes ! Oh, 
God, thou Merciful and Just, look down, at this silent hour, 
and deal gently with those still sleepless from pain, anxiety, 
or famine, and give protection to all. Hast thou no deliver- 
ance from these wrongs and miseries, so deep, so bitter, so 
vast, so ocean-like ? Shall thy children, the work of thine 
own hands, be for ever wronged, cheated, abused by sin, the 
foul deceiver and despoiler of the world ? Is there no vir- 
tue in the Cross ? — no power of goodness left to conquer, 
redeem, and reconcile to the wise, and holy, and benevo- 
lent institutions of thy righteous government ? Lift, then, 
the heavy cloud of error ; dispel the darkness of unbelief. 



CASTLE GREEN. 175 

and give Faith to the children of men. So shall thy laws 
be obeyed, and thy name be honored on the earth. 



CHAPTER VII. 

FROM TRALEE TO LIMERICK. 

Castle Green. — A Scene of Beggary. — Scenes of Misery. — Difficulties under 
which the People suffer. — The Cause. — Cashin Bog. — Listowel. — Tar- 
bert. — Land Titles. — Middle-men. — Condition of Tenants. — A Dinner. — 
A Family. — Oppression of Landlords. — Emigrants leaving Home. — The 
Separation. — Taken for an Englishman. — The Shannon. — A Steamboat. — 
The Passengers. — The Wrong of Vengeance. — An Ambitious Mother. — 
A Minstrel. — Scenery. — Glynn. — Bunrutty. — More about Landlords and 
Small Farmers. — Squatters. — Social Evils. — Useless Agitations. 

May 22. — Rose at four o'clock, and took a stroll about 
the town. The sun was already risen, and the people at 
their work — those who were so fortunate as to find any thing 
to do. We took a look at the extensive barracks, and ad- 
mired the comfortable quarters of the soldiers, who are 
comparatively well-fed and well-paid for idling away their 
time, doing nothing but learning the tactics of war, and thus 
becoming the right-arm of oppression. Near them is the 
fever hospital ; and, not far off, the Union work-house. 
The court-house and prison are in the town. All these 
buildings, as well as the churches, make a fair show in 
their outward appearance. 

We entered the " Castle Green" — a large park and plea- 
sure grounds belonging to Sir Edward Denny, Bart., the 
" noble proprietor" of all the lands in this region — through a 
private house, the tenant permitting us to do so. A herd of 
cows and goats were feeding ; several men and women wei'e 
engaged in milking them. A portion of the extensive grounds 
are handsomely laid out, and beautifully ornamented with 
shade trees, shrubs, and flowers. Some years ago, Sir Ed- 
ward was a candidate for Parliament, when, in his generous 



176 A LITTLE RETALIATION. 

hope of self-aggrandizement, he opened his grounds to the 
pubUc, to the great joy and comfort of the poor people, 
who praised this gracious act of condescension shown by 
the '■ noble" baronet, and walked in the shady bowers of 
their almost royal pat?'on ! 

But this morsel did not so sweeten the cup from which 
they had long drank as to secure his election. He was de- 
feated, and a man of less pretensions, and more merit, was 
returned to Parliament. Whereupon this little stream of 
comfort, which had eked through the thick shell of his 
"noble" selfishness, was withered up, and the gates have 
ever since been closed to all, except those who, like our- 
selves, creep in some other way, by permission. It is, 
doubtless, more profitable as a cow-pasture, than as a place 
of resort for the ungrateful populace. 

There is one comfort left to this down-trodden race — the 
sweets of vengeance — when they vote against the promotion 
of the men who oppress them. Was suffrage universal, 
they would have more frequent opportunities to scatter 
thorns in the paths of oppressors. 

Returning to the " Royal Hibernia," we found the ser- 
vants in waiting, each on the look-out for himself Why 
should not people, in their circumstances, grow selfish ? 
What but " special grace"' can keep them from it ? We 
gave Miss Chambermaid her fee. Of the others we had 
received no service, so, in mathematical justice, nothing 
was the equivalent. That was no matter. We had been 
at the hotel over night, and Waiter and Boots had looked 
at us. Must they not be paid for it ? How else could 
they live ? 

Taking our sacks away from Boots, we crossed over to 
the post-house. A single mail car was to take us to Tar- 
bert, on the Shannon. There were but four seats, and two 
were engaged already. So one of us must take the "well" 
— that is, sit upon the box between the other passengers, 
and ride backwards, his legs hanging down behind, without 
any support for the feet — not a very comfortable position. 



AN UNFORTUNATE GIRL. 177 

A multitude of squalid creatures, such as we have de- 
scribed at other places, here presented themselves, of both 
sexes and of all ages, seemingly determined to obtain some- 
thing from us, if importunity could extort it. So dense 
was the mass upon the side-walks, that it was with no 
common effort we could work ourselves through, aided 
though we were by the threats and reprimands of the 
agent. Finding we were likely to be overwhelmed, we 
tried our hands at sustaining " law and order," and defend- 
ing our rights against the indecencies and outrages upon 
peaceable travelers. We were little more successful, at 
first, than the office-keeper, for our voices were less fami- 
liar, and our manner less boisterous. But we did not suc- 
ceed. 

Among the crowd of beggars I noticed a young wo- 
man, not over eighteen, of very pretty appearance and 
modest address. Her hair was combed smooth ; her dress 
was poor and worn, but tidy ; her form was slender and 
delicate, made so by hunger, and her whole appearance, un- 
der other circumstances, would have been considered re- 
spectable, if not handsome. She needed only clothes and 
food to make her, personally, beautiful. She wrapped her 
old shawl closer about her shoulders, and made several 
efforts, before she had the courage to beg of us for a penny, 
to buy some bread. I never can forget her manner, nor 
her words. Her looks showed that she felt keenly her 
abasement ; that nothing but the bitterest and most inexora- 
ble necessity could force her to ask an aim ; and even this 
had not steeled her young heart to shame and contempt, 
to which she knew she exposed herself Her voice qui- 
vered and died away into a whisper, while large tears start- 
ed from her soft blue eyes, and trembled an instant before, 
one after another, they coursed down her pallid cheek, 
slightly tinged with the suffusion of what little blood still 
flowed in her veins. She wiped off the tears with a corner 
of her old shawl, and tried to look composed. 

I never felt the deep fountains of my soul so moved 



178 POVERTY CONTRASTED. 

before. I never had a trial like this. Oh, I would give 
more for that prayer which lingered on those lips, before 
it went forth to heaven, the utterance of a pure and true 
heart, than for the studied words of priest or bishop in the 
rites of consecration, or at the baptismal font — '■ Kind sir, 
will ye give me a ha'-penny, to buy some bread for my 
mither and little sisters, and may heaven bless you and 
keep you?" 

I thought of my home, my wife, my daughters, and little 
children ; of the abundance of our land ; the quiet, and 
comfort, and competence of our native citizens ; and I 
wished this young woman and her mother and sisters were 
there. I remembered an instance in my own city which 
appeared in strong contrast. 

A girl of seventeen came to my house with a note from 
her father, asking charity in the name of a common hu- 
manity. I went with her, and found an intelligent Irish- 
man of forty, who had served several years as a Lieute- 
nant in the British army, but for love to his family had ex- 
changed his " commission" for land in Canada, which 
proved to be so wild and inhospitable he could not live 
upon it. His young wife, by a second marriage, was very 
handsome. A son and two daughters, of which the one 
who came for me was the youngest, and an infant, con- 
stituted the family. They were in an upper room in Va- 
rick-street, over a dram shop. They had no chairs, no 
bedstead ; an old chest or two, and some clothes upon the 
floor was all. It was a cold December night, and they had 
no fuel. I thought that surpassed all imaginable misery, 
and was the lowest depth to which a family could be re- 
duced in a christian land. 

I had not seen Ireland. My ears had never heard such 
plaintive cries as have here reached them. And then I felt 
that there \va,s no real legalized oppression, but a chance 
left. An eflort would bring permanent relief. I saw a 
hope for them, and tried to awaken one in their hearts. I 
can not do it here. There is no hope but in death or emi- 



TOWARDS THE SHANNON. 179 

gration. And I look upon that young woman, so beautiful 
in her degradation, with an anguish too deep for utterance. 

I was glad when the driver mounted the other end of 
the " well," and cried out in a coarse voice, " Eyah ! oout 
of the way, ye rapscallions," and the tatterdemalions scam- 
pered away, but still begged louder than ever. I did actu- 
ally feel a relief, as if fetters had been taken off my limbs, 
when we were fairly clear of these beggars ; for the chil- 
dren ran beside our carriage a long distance, entreating us 
to give them a ha' penny, as loud as they could scream. 
Could I have erased such events from my memory, I 
should suffer less sadness of heart when I think of Tralee 
and the beautiful scenes about it. 

For some distance the road, which, like all the main 
roads in this country, is excellent, passes through pretty 
and fertile fields, and then commences to wind up the as- 
cent of the Stack hills, by a steep and circuitous route, till 
it reaches the summit, from which there is a fine view of 
the whole surrounding country. In the bottom of the 
beautiful valley, extending from Castleisland is the town and 
harbor of Tralee, the waters of Ballyheigue Bay, spread 
out towards the sea. From the opposite shore the Bran- 
don hills rise abruptly, dipping into the Atlantic on the west, 
and stretching eastward to the deep, narrow valley which 
divides them from the Slievemish, through which runs the 
road to the head of Dingle bay. Then the latter range ex- 
tends farther to the east, over which are caught glimpses 
of the peaks about Killarney. In the valley before us are 
several beautiful seats of the gentry, which would add 
more to the beauty of the landscape were there not so 
many evidences of the squalid misery which abounds among 
the common people. Nature has made it a sweet and 
lovely vale, but man has sadly disfigured it. 

Before us a broad expanse of slightly undulating country 
extends north, towards the hills and headlands about the 
mouth of the Shannon. This region is more bleak and 
desolate than anv we have yet seen. The soil itself is 



180 DESTITUTION. 

poor, being formed of extensive fields of bog, vast siirubless 
moors, and heathy and barren sand hills, with only here and 
there a narrow glade fit for cultivation. The inhabitants 
are more wretched than the country, surpassing, in the 
depth of their degradation, all we have yet seen. 

Their low huts made of turf, and half covered with 
thatch, an old ragged quilt hung up for a door ; the piles of 
filth in front ; the pale, sickly, half-starved children, some 
with scarcely a rag to cover their nakedness ; the men with 
corduroy breeches, and coarse shirts all patched and ragged, 
and a slouched hat drawn over their heads ; the women in 
nothing but tattered, brown frocks, with cadaverous faces, 
peeping from under snarled wads of matted hair, their faces, 
hands, and feet streaked with dirt, the entire absence of 
any thing like a garden, or potato patch ; in short, every- 
thing exhibits signs of the utmost destitution and misery. 

We met squads of men and women going into Tralee 
for what we could not guess. They looked so wretched 
and wo-begone, that we were frightened at their presence, 
as they turned their wan faces and haggard eyes towards us. 
There was nothing of fierceness in their looks to terrify us, 
or suggest the thought that they would plunder ; but such 
a complete prostration of all that is noble and manly, that 
we shrunk from them with a shudder, as when awakened 
from a frightful dream, or startled from a reverie by the 
touch of some imaginary monster whom we know can do us 
no harm. We also met several women, some young, driving 
asses loaded with panniers of turf, which they hoped to 
sell in Tralee, or which was to pay for rent or taxes. They 
were dressed like the others, without hat, cap, or shoes. 

Having reached the summit, the driver halted for us to 
resume our seats, having walked for the last mile or two. 
Here a squad of little children, stationed along the side of 
the road, with rags dangling about their legs and arms, 
dashed towards the car with pieces of lighted turf, for those 
to light their pipes or segars who chose to do so. The 
driver improved the opportunity, and soon enveloped his 



ACCOMMODATIONS FOR SMOKERS. 181 

head in a cloud of smoke. With becoming condescension, 
he waited for the passengers to follow his example. One 
did so ; the rest had no need. But now came the tussle. 
All scrambled up to see who could beg loudest. The turf 
was thrown down when it would avail nothing, for neither 
smoker paid for the favor received, but turned the poor 
urchins back upon us. I could not fail to notice the cold 
look of indifference, which expressed more than words 
could utter, from those men who were here among their own 
countrymen. 

Giving time for the bestowing of our benefactions, the 
driver started on, and the children followed upon a full run, 
for a hundred rods, shouting and screaming all the way for 
a ha'-penny, till completely out of breath. Some of them 
were not over four or five years old, others were nine or 
ten. All started with the most frantic resolution to gain 
something, and were desperate in their efforts. The little 
fellows soon gave out, but the larger ones ran with astonish- 
ing determination, and yielded only when their strength 
was entirely exhausted. When a penny was thrown to 
them, they all rushed for it like pigs, or fowls for an ear of 
corn, appearing no more reasonable nor less ravenous. We 
distributed our store of bread and cheese we had laid in for 
our way-side breakfast, which was devoured greedily by 
those who were fortunate enough to get a piece, and with a 
haste that indicated there was danger of losing it. I have 
seen boys beg for " une sou," along the road from Quebec 
to Montmorenci, but they were genteel compared with 
these. Those begged for gain, and by custom ; these of 
necessity, and for life. They chased us with the ferocity of 
wild beasts, famished with hunger, and doubtful of their 
prey. 

For myself, my pennies were gone, and I reasoned fool- 
ishly. I said it is wrong to give them, for it creates a habit 
of idleness, keeps them away from school, and encourages 
them to annoy every traveler coming this way. But I for- 
got where I was. I did not consider there was no school 

16 



182 POLITICAL REMEDIES. 

for them to attend, no work for them to do, no home, nor 
larder, nor wardrobe for them — nothing but w'ant gnawing 
at their vitals, and oppression crushing their young hearts, 
and driving them, thus early, to beggary and crime. 

How falsely do we often estimate the conduct of others, 
and justify our neglect of duty, by what we count wrong 
in them! How few take into the account, all the circum- 
stances, profound or apparent, in making up an estimate of 
another's character ! We call these Irish people a poor, 
filthy, ignorant, superstitious race, not fit to be treated with 
any mark of respect ; yea, some add, they are jealous, false, 
and dishonest. Who can wonder if they are ? Nay, I am 
more surprised that they are as good as their worst enemies 
and traducers admit them to be. Having lived, generation 
after generation, in a state of the utmost depression, denied 
the means of a common education, never allowed to think, 
or speak, or act, for themselves, except by permission ; 
struggling, constantly, and under the most forbidding cir- 
cumstances, for a precarious living, oppressed, abused, and 
cheated by temporal and spiritual rulers, and worse, by an 
overbearing landlordism, which knows neither mercy, jus- 
tice, or common humanity ; which wall have its pound of 
flesh, if it must come from the hearts of starved and or- 
phan children ! How can they rise ? How can they 
avoid sinking, every year, deeper and deeper, into the loath- 
some wretchedness where so many are wallowing, with no 
hope of deliverance, no drop of comfort left them ? 

The whole history of Ireland's wrongs proves that, as 
certainly as effect will follow cause, the whole course of legal, 
ecclesiastical, and social policy, whether intended or not, I 
will not pretend to judge, has been to reduce this nation to 
its present condition of destitution, and misery. Nothing 
could be more probable — nor more certain and direct. And 
the few crumbs of parliamentary relief are merely political, 
affecting only the rich and aspiring demagogues. There is 
nothing radical, comprehensive, permanent, in all that has 
been done — nothing that will remove the cause, stop the 



INSUFFICIENT. 183 

crevasse through which the deluge of evil is sweeping with 
such alarming force, till it has reached the high places, as 
well as low, and all ranks complain, with sad and strange 
comminglings, of their unfortunate condition. 

The rich and poor grumble savagely about the poor rates 
and union work-houses. Nobody is satisfied. O'Connel 
plead with manly fortitude and perseverance, for the re- 
moval of political disabilities ; and he succeeded. The 
Repealers are clamorous for the severance of the union, but 
they hardly know what they ask for. The " Young Irish 
Party" would adopt forcible measures to cut the bond, let 
come what will. They think the case could not be worse. 
But I have yet to learn how all that would fill these hungry 
bellies, and clothe these shivering limbs. It might arouse a 
spirit of freedom, and work a regeneration which would, 
ultimately, do some good ; but^ unless the enormous wrongs 
of feudalism, the possession and entailment of these large 
landed and leasehold properties, the arrogance of the no- 
bility and gentry, were crushed, and all family distinctions 
annihilated, and a spirit of individualism, of personal rights 
and responsibility, mutual relations and dependencies, and 
social equality, were awakened and brought into free 
and sturdy exercise, I can see no real victory gained, no 
permanent blessing to be secured by the favorable termina- 
tion of their agitations. 

What do these starved children care whether a parlia- 
ment meets in Dublin or in London ? — whether Victoria, 
Brian Boroihme, or Daniel O'Connel is at the head of gov- 
ernment ? — whether the Pope or the Queen is the head of 
the church militant ? They want immediate relief, and a 
radical removal of the burdens under which they groan. 
They want a chance to make a living, without supporting 
hundreds in idleness, luxury, and extravagance, in foreign 
lands. They want a patch of earth, which shall not be 
covered over so deep with rents and taxes that they can 
not touch the produce of the soil. They want an educa- 
tion that shall enable them to transact the business of life 



184 THE CASHIN BOG. 

in an undei'standing manner ; to know their rights, the 
sources of success and the secret of their miseries. They 
want a rehgion that shall acquaint them with the true cha- 
racter of God, and the methods of his government, make 
them know and feel that he holds them directly and person- 
ally answerable to himself; that he helps them who help 
themselves ; that he has delegated no power to stand be- 
tween their consciences and his commands ; that he has 
left the will free to choose or reject ; and forbidden the in- 
terference of all human authority in matters of opinion ; 
that the end of the law is righteousness, (right in action,) 
goodness, (good made operative,) and reconciliation to his 
most holy will. With such chances — such opportunities, 
Ireland may be redeemed, and her wronged and oppressed 
people rise high in the scale of human greatness, and do 
honor to Great Britain and the world ! 

In the flat and bleak district we are now passing, lies 
the Cashin bog, said to be one of the largest in the country. 
It stretches off^ to the westward, towards Knockanore and 
the caverned hills which bound the ocean near the Shannon's 
mouth. The edges of the bog are worked for the fuel, 
which is conveyed to Tralee in small carts and panniers, 
drawn or carried by asses driven by women. Multitudes 
of men and women, boys and girls, were at work, cutting 
or spreading, carrying out, or piling up the turf. A descrip- 
tion of a bog, and the mode of preparing the peat for use, 
may not be uninteresting to my readers. 

It is computed that there are nearly three million acres of 
bog in Ireland. The largest portions lie in low grounds or 
basins, and some in elevated places, and surrounded by hills, 
and others on the tops of mountains, as at Mangerton. 
The latter are called mountain bogs. The surface is usu- 
ally flat, but sometimes slightly undulating, like the waves 
of the sea, or the rolling prairies in our Western States, 
Their appearance is like our marshes, thickly grassed over, 
with patches of dark earth appearing here and there. The 
bog, like the alluvium of our low prairies, seems to be a ve- 



PREPARING PEAT. 185 

getable deposit, coarse upon the surface, but becoming finei, 
blacker, and more solid, downwards. It frequently exhibits 
stratas of light colors and coarser texture. Whole trees 
of large size, are often found imbedded in them, several 
feet below the surface, in a sound and perfect state. The 
wood from these trees is often worked into articles of fur- 
niture, canes, and toys, and, when highly polished, appears 
very fine. The grain is coarse, but like an oak immersed 
in water for a long time, becomes hard, and of a dark 
color. 

The process of preparing and curing the peat is very 
simple. An opening is made by cutting a ditch to lead off 
the water, leaving the borders sufficiently dry to be worked. 
A long, sharp knife, somewhat like a scythe sharpened upon 
the back, is used to cut the mass into vertical slabs, about 
four inches in thickness. These are again cut into square 
strips, and then into pieces of eight or ten inches in length. 
These cubes, looking like long, black bricks, are carried back 
by the women and children a few rods, and spread out upon 
the ground to dry. After a few days, they are piled in 
heaps and left to "cure," till carried to market. Several 
days are required to fit the turf for burning freely. When 
once dry, it does not wet through easily, and so the peat is 
sometimes left in little stacks for months. 

Each cutting extends down three or four feet. The up- 
per layer is not as good as the lower, and is frequently 
thrown away. In some places I have seen four or five of 
these cut from the same bog, one rising above the other 
in terraces, and grass, oats, or potatoes growing upon the 
residuum at the bottom, twelve or fifteen feet below the ori- 
ginal surface. 

The bog we passed to-day is extensively worked. 
Acres and acres have been cut over, on both sides of the 
road. For miles we could see the black streaks, where 
the workmen were laying out the fuel for next winter. 
The road runs through the bog, which has been cut away 
to the hard bottom, and is well graded and macada- 

16* 



18G LISOVVEL. 

mized. On one side, workmen were engaged on a ridge 
several feet above the level of the road, which yielded a 
fine crop of turf I am not able to compute the amount 
which can be cut from an acre. But when it attains the 
depth of fifteen feet, the crop must be immense. Neither 
did I learn the terms on which the workmen are employed, 
further than it is considered about the lowest and hardest 
business a person can pursue by which to get a livelihood. 
The terms, certainly, can not be very favorable, judging 
from the character of the people employed, which is the 
most deplorable of any we have seen at any kind of labor. 

There are few places, towns, castles, hamlets, or villas 
worthy of notice for the forty miles to Tarbert, except 
Listowel. There are, to be sure, the dirty hamlet of Odor- 
ney abbey, and the ruins of an old church ; the monument 
of one of the Earls of Kent, on the summit of a hill, at 
some distance, which must be an attractive object to the 
descendants of the poor serfs of that feudal lord, who 
helped procure for them their miserable estate. But it is in 
a very fitting place, overlooking a wide extent of flat and 
dreary moor, with bleak and desolate hills in the distance. 
There are several other small places, which scarcely de- 
serve a name. 

Listowel is situated on the banks of the Feale, which, a 
little beyond, widens into an estuary, and sweeps off' towards 
the ocean. A new and very handsome stone bridge has 
been built over the river, and the hand of improvement has 
been busy in adorning the banks with a beautiful plantation 
about the mansion of the " Right Honorable Maurice Fitz- 
gerald, the Knight of Kerry," the "noble proprietor" of the 
town and surrounding country, and by " divine right," the 
oppressor of the people. Perhaps I ought to say, that, in 
his case, many people speak well of him, as one who has a 
heart not wholly impervious to the claims of justice and 
humanity, as he does sometimes deign to bestow a thought 
upon his tenants, and inquire after their condition, whether 
their rents are all paid, and how they can be made of more 



THE LORDS OF KERRY. 18T 

service to his interests and their own. And then the beau- 
tifying of his grounds along the river has afforded employ- 
ment, at a 6d. a day, to many a poor fellow, who has thus 
been able to carry a little more oatmeal to appease the 
crying hunger of wife and children. 

On a small knoll, close upon the bank, surrounded on the 
town side by buildings, are the remains of the old castle 
of the " Lords of Kei'ry," the renowned Fitzgeralds, who 
were notable chiefs in the days of the civil wars, and held 
out long and manfully against their enemies in the times 
of the invasion. They were frequently in concert with 
the Desmonds, and, when conquered, partook of the ven- 
geance which fell upon their compatriots. The castle is 
little more than a pile of ruins. Its position could not have 
been very formidable, as it must have been accessible at 
least, on three sides. Sir George Carew tested its strength 
in 1600, and subjected it to his authority. 

There is a very respectable church standing in the 
midst of the public square, a Catholic chapel, and several 
stores, workshops, and decent buildings. The masses of 
people, however, wear the same marks of squalid poverty 
which we have every where seen. Rags, filth, and beg- 
gary meet us at every turn, and all along the road. There 
is no escaping the sight of human misery, the most abject 
and forlorn. Every pleasant scene is defaced by it, and 
scarcely a moment is left for comfortable thought or agree- 
able conversation. The whole land is cursed. Each shrub 
and stone is made the witness of man's degradation. 
Every where is reared the monuments of folly and wrong, 
of pride and power, abused in reducing the " lords of crea- 
tion" to a condition of the most graceless servitude and 
abandonment. 



T A R B E R T. 

We reached Tarbert at about eleven. From an emi- 
nence above the town, we had a delightful prospect, taking 



188 TARBERT. 

in a long range of the valley of the Shannon, its bays and 
sinuosities, from its mouth to the highlands about Limerick, 
with the hills and valleys of Clare county stretched along 
the opposite shore. A ship of war was riding at anchor 
before the town, on which the British colors were flying, 
and a little way to the right, a merchantman, with the 
"stai's and stripes" — welcome signals — floating in its 
shrouds. Several smaller vessels lay in the little harbor, 
close to the town, and one or two were drifting up the 
river, which spreads out into a broad estuary a few miles 
above. 

Could I have banished all knowledge of the condition of 
the inhabitants, I should have pronounced that a most 
beautiful region of country ; for the day was fine. Soft 
clouds were floating lightly in an azure sky ; the gentle un- 
dulations of the valley were covered with cultivated fields; 
and the hill-sides were green with the richest verdure of 
spring. So long as no human being was to be seen, it was 
a goodly sight to look upon. 

But we were soon doomed to witness a sad change, for 
no sooner had we entered the town than we were beset by 
a flock of beggars, clamorous for something to be given 
them. The driver left us in the street, according to the 
fashion of the country, but pointed us to an untempting 
hotel, where he said we could get some breakfast. We re- 
connoitered the premises sufficiently to satisfy ourselves that 
our chances were small, and so, to get rid of the crowd, we 
started for the steamboat landing, a mile distant. Seeing 
our movement in that direction, several scrambled for our 
budgets, urgent to serve us in that way, and earn a six- 
pence, if possible. But we did not dare to trust them in 
the hands of such hard looking customers. 

I noticed one thing which, however, is not peculiar to the 
Irish character. The driver had an understanding with one 
or two men to whom he delivered us, as the most suitable 
to carry our baggage. They were attached to the inn, and 
claimed the monopoly. Having an inkling of the fact, and 



ITS POSITION. 189 

a good deal of respect for the " free trade" doctrine, we re- 
fused them in short order, much to their disappointment. 
But several followed us out of the village, and two did not 
quit us till we came near the landing. Who will say these 
poor fellows are not willing to work ? 

We did not have time to take a very thorough look at 
the town ; we saw enough, however, to admire its beautiful 
location, and pity the miserable condition of its inhabitants. 
I noticed two very decent churches, and several respectable 
looking stores and dwellings. But a large proportion of the 
buildings present the usual signs of destitution, filth, and 
misery which abound in all the country we have passed 
through. 

The situation of the town is very pleasant and well cir- 
cumstanced for trade. But so far as we could judge from 
appearances, only a small amount is done here. It is at the 
head of a small bay, or inlet, from the Shannon, which 
spreads out to the width of several miles towards the oppo- 
site shore, forming Clanderlow Bay, in the county of Clare. 
The only port of any consequence, on the Shannon be- 
low it, is Kilrush, which is said to be a place of considera- 
ble activity. The condition of the people, the tenure by 
which lands are held, ihe enormous tax upon property, and 
the consequent bad state of cultivation of the lands in this 
region, preclude all chance of a thriving business. The 
best advantages and fairest prospects are lost by bad man- 
agement. 

The proprietor of the town has an elegant seat standing 
off to the right, near a mile, on an elevated site, forming a 
bold head-land, around which flow the waters of the noble 
river. The house overlooking an extensive plantation, and 
a wide extent of richly diversified country, forms an object 
of attraction, and gives variety to the scener3^ It is a 
bright spot, and could the beholder banish the thought that 
it is tenanted by one who performs a part in the grand 
tragedy of Ireland's ruin and disgrace, now in the fifth act 



190 CREATION OF LORI»S. 

of its most successful performance — he would greatly ad- 
mire the taste and beauty displayed about it. 

Perhaps I ought to give my readers a more distinct idea 
of what is meant by the " proprietor" of a town, or region 
of country ; for, except those who have had a taste of what 
has led to " Anti-rentism," we have not, in our country, a 
case in illustration. 

A proprietor is the favored child of government, or for- 
tune, who has come into possession of a certain tract of 
land, the fee of which is invested in him and his heirs, or as- 
signs for ever. Some estates are so entailed that they can 
not be sold, nor conveyed by the act of the owner, nor in 
payment of any just and honorable debt. They belong to 
the family in perpetuity, the title descending, like the crown 
of pure and absolute monarchies, to the oldest male heir. 
Other estates descend to the nearest kin, and may be held, 
like the crown of England, in the female as well as the male 
line. These are "the families of the nobility, the feudal lords 
or chiefs, who bore rule over certain territories from time 
immemorial, or obtained them by conquest, the right to 
which was confirmed to natives who proved themselves 
faithless to their own country, and submitted tamely to the 
English yoke. 

The properties of the insurgents were all confiscated by 
English sovereigns, and bestowed upon their favorites. 
Thus a new batch of Anglo-Irish peers was created, and the 
foundation commenced for the more permanent persecution 
and oppression of the people. 

The partial execution of a plot to exterminate all the 
Protestants, in 1641, which, according to Hume, succeeded 
so far that forty thousand Englishmen were murdered by 
Irish Catholics, gave a sufficient pretext for the general on- 
slaught so effectually prosecuted by Cromwell, who made 
havoc with all parts of the kingdom, except Connaught, and 
divided up the principal estates among his friends, and the 
partizans of English authority. In this way, not only 
was a set of foreign lords introduced, but a feeling of re- 



LANDLORD AND LEASE. 191 

lentless and bitter animosity generated, which has burst out 
in several bold, but unsuccessful attempts to throw off the 
British yoke. 

In addition to the seignories of the nobility, there are 
other estates which are owned or held by perpetual lease 
by the gentry, and which descend, by the law of primoge- 
niture, to the oldest male heir. These form a class generally 
more oppressive in their exactions, and haughty in their 
bearing, than the hereditary nobility. 

Then, many of the estates are covered by two or more 
leases. The lord leases to a middle-man, who takes upon 
him the management of aflairs. He makes himself rich by 
re-leasing to another, at a rate above what he gives, and so 
has no concern but to receive his rents in London, or on the 
continent. The third having managed' successfully, by 
dividing the estates, building towns, erecting mills, working 
mines, or in some other way, rents out to a fourth class, by 
small lots, and con-acres, till the actual tiller of the soil, 
after buying the right to occupy, is subjected to a rent suf- 
ficient to sustain in splendor, the grades which ride over 
him, beside paying all the taxes which go to support the 
government, the army, and navy, and the myriads of pau- 
pers in the work-houses, and soup kitchens, or who receive 
out-door assistance. This burden is enormous. Figures 
will hardly calculate it. I will present one case, which will 
give some idea of the bestowment and income of proper- 
ties. 

Castle-island, noticed before, which is situated at the head 
of the valley above Tralee, was formerly the property of 
Geoffrey de Marisco, who built the castle, and, as a valiant 
knight, held all the people about that region as his vas- 
sals. In 1345 it was taken by Sir Ralph Ut!brd from the 
knights of the Earl of Desmond, the family in possession 
of a vast region of country in this part of Munster. The 
poor knights, after capitulating to Sir Ralph, were all put to 
the sword in cold blood. At this place, also, in 1397, Ge- 
rald, the fourth Earl of Desmond, called " the Poet," was 



192 A MISERABLE HAMLET. 

eluded out of his camp and cruelly assassinated. In the 
reign of Elizabeth, who was bountiful in her bequest of the 
confiscated properties of the Catholics, the town and ad- 
joining lands, were granted to the Herbert family, under 
the title of the " Manor of Mount Eagle Loyal." The 
tract thus bestowed, contained thirty-six thousand, nine 
hundred and twenty plantation acres, and was valued at 
£3,169, 12s. lOd.— over $15,000 a year! In 1733 a fee 
farm lease, subject to a reserved rent of £ 1,900, ($9,000,) 
a year /or ever, was made of this property to five men, who 
have since admitted a sixth, and still remains in their fami- 
lies, by whom it is rented to under tenants. 

The condition of these tenants may be learned from a 
description of our visit to one of this class, between Tar- 
bert and the steamboat landing. 

Having to wait a few hours for the boat which was to 
take us to Limerick, and having given away the breakfast 
we had provided at Tralee, to the poor children along the 
road, we found it necessary to look up something to eat. 
It was too far to go back to the town, and besides, we could 
not relish a dinner, ever so good, with so many hungry, 
haggard beggars about us. So we concluded to look for 
something in the low huts we had passed, near the bridge 
which crosses the small inlet separating the little island 
from the main. There might be a dozen or more low, 
coarse stone huts, with thatched roofs, standing in a row in 
front of the military coast-station. We inquired at each 
of these, but could obtain no bread, milk, or meat — nothing 
at all in the shape of food. In two or three of them there 
was whiskey, as we judged from the signs usually attendant 
upon such localities — a few bottles, a glass or two, and seve- 
ral red-faced, weak-jointed, garrulous customers sitting 
about them. Amongst them we noticed two women who 
had not signed Father Mathew's pledge, or else had forgot- 
ten to keep it. Our stomachs complained gnawingly at our 
ill success, and we were induced to renew our search, by 
inquiring where some milk could be found. We v;ere re- 



A DOMESTIC SCENE. 193 

ferred to a low stone house on the side hill, half a mile over 
the bridge, where they said a cow was kept. 

We returned, and incited by curiosity as well as hunger, 
we resolved to make good use of our opportunity, and so 
inquired at several hovels scattered along that side of the 
inlet for bread, taking some pains to look in and see how the 
people lived. We could not find a morsel to eat till we 
came to the farthermost house in the hamlet. We inquired 
at the door for milk, and. to our great comfort, were an- 
swered favorably. We walked in. It was a rough stone 
house, laid up in coarse mortar, and unplastered. The 
floor, as is common, was of clay, which was broken through 
in several places, so that the loose ground appeared. The 
roof was formed of small round poles, covered with straw. 
There were no girders on the walls. The room was open 
to the roof. Unlike many we have seen, it had a large 
fire-place and chimney. A bed stood in one corner, and a 
rude cradle, with a child sleeping in it, near by. There 
were two old chairs in the room, a wooden bench, a chest, 
a rough table against the wall, and a dresser with a few 
dishes on it. A pot was hanging over a peat fire. 

The " lady of the house" received us, at first, somewhat 
timidly, but when she learned that we were travelers from 
America, her manner was at once changed. She appa- 
rently felt more at ease, and at once became very social 
and inquisitive. She offered some apologies for the man- 
ner in which she was compelled to entertain the friends of 
her country, who had been so generous in relieving their dis- 
tresses, when famine was carrying off thousands all around 
them, to an untimely grave. We spoke of our acquaint- 
ance and experience in the struggles of poverty, and our 
sympathy for those who are compelled to work hard and 
suffer much to obtain an honest living. She was more 
than ordinarily intelligent, and seemed to have a stout 
heart to bear up under the difficulties which pressed so 
heavily upon them. She spoke of their plans to get to 
America, and manifested a good deal of enthusiasm at the 

17 



194 STIR-A-BOUT. 

thought that the time was not far distant when it would be 
executed. It seemed to her like an expected deliverance 
from captivity, and she spoke of it with all the fervor of 
one who is hoping to gain his liberty after a long period of 
false imprisonment. She spoke of her " childers" as doubly 
dear because they would " goo till America," and never 
know what it was to suffer poverty and oppression, as their 
parents had, in the " ould coounthry." She had three 
children, one an infant, one running about, and one at 
school. Said she, " We're thrying to kape our boye at 
school, for I'm tould that in yer coounthry all the childers 
must be learned." 

We assured her it was greatly desired that children 
should be taught all the useful branches ; that the most fa- 
vorable opportunities were provided, free for all, and that, 
as far as we could, we made our free schools equal to any 
others ; that the children of all classes, the rich and poor, 
might seek an education in the same school, so that, from 
the humblest conditions, men might rise, as they often do, 
to the most eminent positions, as scholars, professors, and 
statesmen. She seemed perfectly delighted with the 
thought that her children would, some day, have such op- 
portunities afforded them. 

While our conversation was going on, she served us with 
a basin of " stir-a-bout" from the pot over the fire, and 
some milk, which she poured from a tin pan into our dishes. 
One of us sat upon the bench, the other in the old chair. 
The table was a plain board, loaded, at one end, with vari- 
ous articles, the other, at which we sat, without any cove- 
ring of cloth. There was as fair an exhibition of neatness 
as could be expected under such circumstances. The milk 
was very good, and the " stir-a-bout" passable. It was 
made of oatmeal, like mush, or Yankee hasty-pudding. 
There was no bread, butter, cheese, meat, or potatoes in 
the house. Some times they bought American (Indian) 
meal, which costs fi'om half a crown to three shillings a 
stone — fifty to sixty-five cents for fourteen pounds. She 



CONDITION OF F.UIMERS. 195 

said they did not like it so well as oatmeal, and they could 
not afford to use flour. Their sole dependence is upon oat- 
meal, now that the potato has failed ihem. They rarely 
ever taste meat of any kind. A pound and a half of salt 
pork would cost more than a day's work. She informed 
us that herself and children enjoyed pretty good health, 
but " her man" had to work so hard that he was often at- 
tacked with the fever — the fever and ague, which prevails 
a good deal in these boggy districts. 

Just as we had finished our humble meal the husband 
came in from his work. He was a man of middle size, 
well-formed, but spare and pale, from hard work, and in- 
sufficient food. His countenance was sad, indicating a 
heavy heart. But he spoke affectionately to his little boy, 
Avho met him at the door, and received us with an easy 
politeness and urbanity we have not been accustomed to at- 
tach to the pure Irish character. We, at once, entered in a 
conversation upon the social condition and prospects of his 
country, and derived from him much information, concern- 
ing the actual condition of those who are what, in our coun- 
try, we should call the farmers. His case was a fair sample 
of those of the better class of small farmers. 

He owns his house and one acre of ground, for which, 
however, he pays to his landlord, Mr. Leslie, the proprietor 
of the town, £3, (-$15,) for the land, and £2, ($10,) for his 
cabin, yearly ! The pasturage of his cow costs him £l, 10s. 
Add to all this his church rates and taxes, and the sum is not 
less than $50. He works for his landlord at 8d. (15cts,) a 
day, in summer; in winter, at 6d. and boards himself* 

He commences work, at this season, at 5 o'clock, and 

* " With large tracts of land lying uncultivated, a few miserable men are 
employed on the roads — at what wages think you ? One pound of yellow 
meal — i. e. less than Id. per diem ! ! ! Great God, how is this to cure famine ! 

" If this process of depopulation goes on a few months more, you may 

SEEK AN ABLE-BODIED MAX IN VAIN FOR TWENTY OR THIRTY MILES OF COtJN- 
TRY." 

Such is the testimony of an intelligent Conservative witness, after having 
visited four counties. 



196 A HARD LOT. 

works till 12, then at 1, and continues till 7. He takes his 
breakfast before he starts, or goes, as he did this morning, 
without it. He walks home one, or two miles to his dinner of 
"stir-a-bout" and milk, and back again, for his nooning, and 
and then toils till night. If late, five minutes, he is docked 
a quarter of a day. In this instance, he had taken no food 
since noon on Sunday — the day before — and now sat down 
to a single plate of oat-meal mush and a half-a-pint of milk. 

Now look at the sum of this man's misery. There are 
at best, but three hundred and thirteen working days in a 
year. For three or four months in winter he can get no 
work, and in rainy weather his wages stop, so he does not 
actually receive pay for over two hundred days. But allow- 
ing he works every day, and receives 8d a day, the highest 
summer wages, abating nothing for rain or sickness, or win- 
ter, and he would realize but £lO, or less than f 50. From 
this deduct his rent, taxes, and county cess, and his only 
support is from his acre of land, and his cow. And he is 
what would be called a prudent, industrious man, and " well- 
to-live" as the generality of the middling interest people in 
this country. Englishmen talk about the indolence of the 
Irish. The accusation is false. They are as willing to 
work at any service, as any people on earth ; and those 
who have a chance do work, under the most discouraging 
circumstances, with a fortitude which surprises us. 

As the poor, tired, famished man sat there, and took his 
spoonfuls of mush from a tin plate, with an iron spoon, and 
sipped the milk from a tin cup, I looked upon his thin, pale 
countenance, which I knew was the index of a sad and 
crushed heart, and listened to the brief, simple tale of his 
miseries and wrongs, and marked the fitful glimmerings of 
a true and noble nature, when he spoke of our own country, 
and his hope of removing to it ; I could not restrain my 
feelings of compassion. The whole past rushed up before 
me. I thought of the days of my boyhood, when I labored 
as one among the sturdy yeomanry of my native land. I 
contrasted the prosperity of that noble and independent 



FUTURE PLANS. 197 

race — the bone and sinew of our glorious Republic, with the 
depressed and forlorn condition of these serfs of a proud 
aristocracy, who are reduced to the last degree of living, 
wretchedness, and wrong. The farmers of our country 
sometimes work hard, but they have many days of leisure, 
and always a garner full, and a broad table well furnished 
with an abundance of the best provisions, such as an Irish 
Earl might covet. I watched closely the changes of his 
features, which betokened a full heart, sadly oppressed by 
circumstances. When he spoke of his plans of going to 
America, and we encouraged him to hope it was possible, 
a smile beamed upon his sad countenance ; but the utter- 
ance of a word, or proposal of a question which involved 
the difficulties with which he was contending:, wrought a 
complete change in his appearance. 

His best, and only feasible plan which he explained to us, 
is to deny himself and family, to the very verge of starva- 
tion, in order to save enough to pay his own passage to 
America, leaving his family behind to subsist upon the in- 
come of the cow. Arrived there, he hopes to be able to earn 
enough, in one or two years, to send for his wife and chil- 
dren. This is the only earthly hope that keeps his heart 
from sinking into despair. He has no other source of com- 
fort left him. To look upon his wife, and hear the prattle 
of his children, brings him no joy, but adds to .the burden 
of his sorrows ; while he thinks their affection is to be met 
with his inability to make them happy. But when he thinks 
he can provide for them a good and happy home, he presses 
them warmly to his full heart, as he did, while tears trickled 
from his eyes, as I laid my hand on the head of his little 
boy, which he held in his arms, and told him I hoped to see 
him growing up among the free and honorable young men 
in our country, with bright prospects of a long, useful and 
happy life. He was much pleased when we inquired his 
name, and gave him ours, and promised to befriend him 
when he came to our country. 

Mr. may be unlike the rest of his countrymen. 

17* 



198 IRISH HOSPITALITY. 

I know he is not yet so deeply oppressed as thousands are, 
and hence he may have retained more of the dignity of 
human nature, and preserved the feeble action of those ten- 
der cords which vibrate in unmistakable tones the true 
character of an Irish heart. We did not ask his religion. 
There was no need of it. He showed it to us without. He 
may be Catholic ; he may be Protestant ; he may be Me- 
thodist, or Independent. That is nothing. Deeper and 
truer, and more legible than all, he convinced us that he was 
a man, had a heart, and could feel — was a christian, and 
and could love ; and as such I loved him, felt for him, and 
pitied him as my brother. 

We gave them liberally for our meal. When they saw 
the amount they both, at once, refused it. We insisted, 
and reluctantly they accepted it, with an expression of sin- 
cere thankfulness which was worth infinitely more than the 
shilUngs we gave them. But we had detained the man too 
long, as we may the reader — and he hurried away to labor, 
apparently with a heart made lighter by our visit, though 
we found we had robbed him of a part of his dinner. 

Ireland has been famed, from time immemorial, for tne 
hospitality of its inhabitants. The pages of every work 
written upon its history, character, or condition attest it, 
and we have had ocular demonstration of the fact in many 
cases. Will any say, even the most hostile Englishman, 
that these Irishmen are all depravity, all evil — past redemp- 
tion, ungrateful, vindictive, inhuman ? What nation has 
suffered so much and yet retains a more excellent quality 
than the virtue of hospitality ? Shame on the slanders 
showered indiscriminately upon a whole nation ! It is time 
to have done with such injustice, to cultivate a better feel- 
ing, and bestow a merited eulogy. 

Returning over the bridge, we saw several well-dressed, 
and apparently well-fed, men and women coming from the 
military station connected with the coast defence. Their 
condition and manners contrasted strangely with the scenes 
we had just witnessed. There was a proud and supercili- 



REVENUE STATION. 199 

ous air about them which jarred the equanimity of our feel- 
ings, and, as the phrenologist would say, roused other or- 
gans than those which had been so recently in a state of 
keen excitement. Had there been a wide space between, 
the change might have afforded relief instead of pain ; but 
as it was, our organs of benevolence, justice, and sympathy 
had not been quieted, and we were illy prepared to look, 
with admiration, upon a display of wealth, and power, and 
place. So we turned away from looking at the pretty 
grounds about the Revenue police station, which stands 
upon a beautifully rounded eminence, and commands a 
charming prospect of the river and shores. We went towards 
the long stone pier, from which we were to embark in small 
boats, to an old hulk moored off in the river six or eight 
rods. Owing to the great rise and fall of the tides, steam- 
boats can not always land on the end of the elegant stone 
pier, which extends a dozen rods into the little bay. The 
steamers come alongside the boat moored off for that pur- 
pose, on which the passengers and freight are stationed. 

While I sat demurely upon the pier, pondering upon 
what I had seen, and the various and strange aspects in 
which humanity must appear to the unveiled eye of 
Him who " made of one blood all nations of men for to 
dwell on all the face of the earth," I was aroused by the 
approach of a multitude of people, winding round the hill, 
and issuing from the plantation of young trees, towards 
the bridge. We started back to see them, as we were cu- 
rious to know what it could mean. It was a motley group, 
of all ages, with bags and budgets, boxes and baskets, na- 
ked heads and bare feet, ragged clothes and smutty faces, 
followed by several carts, drawn by asses, and loaded with 
such goods as are landed on our wharves on the arrival of 
an emigrant ship. There could not have been less than a 
hundred, some of whom were tolerably dressed ; but the 
majority looked very miserable. 

We lingered behind for some time after they had passed, 
engaged in conversation upon whit was transpiring. It 



m 



200 EMIGRANTS, 



was not long beiore we were startled by such a wail of wo 
as I never heard before. We hasted to the pier, supposing 
some fatal accident had occurred. The people were 
crowded together, and weeping and wailing in a most piti- 
able manner. On inquiring, we found that five or six 
young persons were about to leave for America. They 
were going up to Limerick in the steamer, to take a ship 
which was to sail the next day. One of them was married, 
and was going to meet her husband in Pennsylvania ; two 
or three were young women, and one a young man. 

I never witnessed so wild an exhibition of sorrow before. 
They seemed to give themselves up to mere instinctive 
passion, without any attempt to control their feelings, or 
moderate them by judgment. At one time the whole air 
would ring with exclamations of the bitterest grief, like the 
rushing of a fierce tempest- wind ; then all would become 
calm again, and they would talk and laugh, as if the happi- 
est beings on earth. Then some one would hint that the 
steamer was coming, or some movement would be made to 
transport the luggage from the pier to the scow, when all 
would break out in the most furious expressions of grief. 
Parents would embrace their children, and brothers and 
sisters weep aloud, as if their hearts were rent with the bit- 
terest agony. One father, who had wept as loud as any 
other, tried to comfort himself by chiding the others for 
being so inconsolable. 

" Why," said he, in a stammering voice, " we should not 
wape for them. Och, sure, an' are they not agoin to lave 
this poour, wretched coounthry, where we all stharve, and 
goo to that blissid land where the poour folks have mate to 
ate ivery day, an' they will ?" 

That was like a toast given to our country at a festival. 
We could keep silence no longer, but at once entered into 
a description of the advantages and comforts the industri- 
ous poor people might have, describing" the course they 
ought to pursue when they emigrated to it ; showing them 



ANXIETY TO GO TO AMERICA. 201 

iTie folly of hiving together in our large cities, and living in 
filth and ignorance, as too naany do. 

They listened to us w^ith evident satisfaction, and our 
conversation had the effect to still their horrid yelling, till 
it was announced that the steamer was winding round the 
point just below, and would be there in a few minutes. A 
sudden and terrific scream burst out afresh, as if each was 
anxious to drown the other, and make his own agonies 
most conspicuous. Men, women, and children mingled 
their voices in wild confusion, as if all bedlam was let 
loose. They embraced, and kissed, and wept, and bade 
adieu, over and over again. But least aflfected among 
them were those who were bidding farewell to their home, 
their friends and country for ever. There seemed to be a 
ray of hope and comfort for them ; for the rest, only dark- 
ness and despair. And those about to leave, gave it as the 
richest comfort they could offer, that as soon as they could 
earn it, they would send them the means of getting awaj-- 
from the oppression and misery under which they were 
suffering so severely. This was the richest comfort they 
could offer ; and parents besought their children, with the 
most earnest entreaties, not to forget them when they should 
have enough to eat, but to remember them, and send for them 
as soon as they could earn means enough. This was the 
last, the very last, request that they made, even after they 
had parted from the shore. " Don't forgit yer poor, sthar- 
vin' mither, Mary dear, but be a good child, my darlint, an' 
the blissed angels will kape ye." " Remimber, Bridget, an' 
sind for us, an' ye can arne feve poound ; we'll sell the pag 
and git the rist." 

These requests followed the adieus, as if the anxiety to 
get to America transcended all other considerations. I 
stopped behind, till one or two boat loads had passed from 
the pier ; and remarked that those who had parted from 
their friends entered at once and cheerfully into conversation 
upon the plans and prospects of getting to America. Some 
of them thought they could go next year. Their daugh- 



202 TAKEN FOR AN ENGLISHMAK. 

lers could earn ten and fifteen pounds a year, and that 
would pay the passage of father and mother, and one or 
two sisters. Others expected to be obliged to wait two 
years. One man said if he could sell his farm he would 
go next fall. I asked him if he had a farm. He said he 
had one of ten acres. 

" Do you own it ?" asked I. 

"Och, sure, I have the right of it. I paid a hundred 
poound for it, and I wish I could sell it for half the amoont." 

" I thought you had no small farmers here, that the lords 
and gentry owned all the land, and only leased it to you." 

" An' they do ; but sure an' I own it too, foor I bought 
the lease of it, an' pay the rint to the landlord, an' the 
county-cess, an' the tithes, an' the poor-rates ; till, i'faith, 
we are all poor ourselves. We are all small farmers, an' 
poour ones too, I can assure yer riverence that. An' ye're 
an Englishman — an agent, perhaps, an' would like to knoo 
soome thing aboot our things ?" 

"No, I am not an Englishman, nor an agent, but" — 

An' ye are not an Englishman^ ayeh ? The divil a bit 
can ye decaive me in that, an' ye would be afther sayin' so a 
twelvemonth. Sui'e, an' is'nt it as plain as yer hat on yer 
head, ye are no Irishman. Ye do not spake like a cooun- 
thryman of oours." 

" I am an American, sir." 

" An' it's an Amirican ye are ? Blissed Virgin, an' it's 
a great coounthry ye are coome from, it is. An' I wish I 
was there. When did you coome to this counthry ? It's 
a poour people we are coome to. The Lord have mercy 
on us." 

And then followed a tornado of questions and remarks 
from him and others, about " Amiriky," those who had gone 
there ; whether I knew " Patrick O'Flaherty, an' Michael 
O'Grady, an' Daniel McSweeny, an' James McCarthy, 
an' Patrick O'Sullivan, who all went from Ballybunnian, 
Abbeyfeale, Carrinakilly, Ballinruddery, Tallymore, Arde- 
fert Abbey, and all aboot this region, and soome from coun- 



A BRITISH STEAMER. 203 

ty Clare, joost over the river there, who were all cliver min, 
and shmart." When I protested I did not know them 
he was much surprised — though some had gone to Canada, 
and others to New Orleans. 



THE SHANNON. 

The steamer, a black, rusty-looking craft, came along side 
of the hull, to which we had been conveyed in small boats, 
and we were soon all on board. A large company of pas- 
sengers, from Kilrush and the intermediate landings, were 
already on the decks, and also a large amount of freight. 
As this is the first English river steamer I have seen, it may 
not be out of place to give a brief description of it. 

The hulk is constructed much like a sloop, except it is 
larger, and the bows and keel are sharper. The quarter 
deck is raised two or three feet above the main. There is 
no promenade, nor hurricane deck, nor any awning. For- 
tunately, the sun shines in this country, very little. The 
guards do not project over the hull, except at the wheel- 
houses. It is like a sea steamer in every thing except size, 
and naked as a sloop. The engine and boilers are in the 
hold, and the pilot, or wheelsman stands in the stern without 
any shelter from the sun, wind or rain. He has no com- 
munication with the engineer. Both are subject to the 
commander, who directs the former by motions and the lat- 
ter by words, which are passed down by a man or boy, sta- 
tioned over the engine for the purpose, who repeats the 
captain's orders — " stop her — half speed — back her — let her 
go." 

The regulation and construction of these boats seem 
to me very awkward and inconvenient. There is no dis- 
play of taste, and little respect paid to neatness and com- 
fort. Benches are arranged about the after deck, and 
cushioned seats are in the cabins. But no where is seen 
the taste and luxury found in all our passenger boats. In- 
deed there is scarcely a " Tow-boat" on the Hudson river, 



204 PRIDE OF CASTE. 

not better found than the best of those belonging to the 
" Dublin Steam Navigation Company," which controls the 
navigation of the Shannon. 

The dirtiness of the boats is inexcusable, though owing 
to the burning of turf, which is used instead of coal, it 
might require more labor to keep it clean. But this is no 
apology in a country where labor is cheap, and thousands 
are starving for want of employment. Water is cheap, 
also, and hogs are plenty, so that brushes can be had to scrub 
the decks and dust the cabins. Filth is inexcusable, but 
these people are so used to it that it does not annoy them 
to travel or dwell in the midst of it. But I wonder those 
who pretend to more refinement, do not make some attempt 
to be decent and comfortable. 

We passed about the boat to inspect the management and 
working of it, and finally took our position on a pile of 
freight, in order to have a better view of the country and 
scenery along the shores of the Shannon. We happened 
to be there when the collector came round for our fare, 
which saved us about fifty per cent., as we were taken for 
second-class passengers. We had not before suspected but 
that we were as good as any body, nor felt any inconven- 
ience on account of caste. But price sometimes begets 
pride, poverty shame Many a man would feel himself quite 
happy, and never dream of dissatisfaction, with himself or 
the world, but for being over-topped by the vapory show, 
and strutting brag of others. His equilibrium gets dis- 
turbed and envy steals into his soul, and he feels chagrined 
when others pretend to be greater, or smarter than he. And 
many are foolish enough to pay their last dollar, and deny 
themselves peace and the ordinary comforts of life, merely 
to keep up appearances before others. This is a species of 
" disinterested benevolence," and se/f-sacrifice, my philoso- 
phy could never interpret. I am willing to submit to all 
rightful exactions, and to bestow honor where it is due ; but 
I have yet to learn how an imaginary line across the deck 
of a steamboat can mark the division of honor and shame. 



AND EXISTENCE OF PRINCIPLE. 205 

Such distinctions, so far as I have been able to discover, 
do not prevail here to a greater extent than they do in our 
country, for we mingled freely with all on board, none neg- 
lecting or despising us for being ranked with the "second- 
class." I do honestly think there is a prouder, and more 
arrogant feeling in American than in European society, 
especially in the more common relations of social inter- 
course ; money, and religious, and political opinions beget 
as wide divisions, and as bitter asperities at home as here, 
except in the portions actually arrayed against each other. 
But the pride of birth, nation, and hereditary caste prevails 
extensively here, which is not acknowledged in our country. 
Wealth and orthodoxy in religion and politics, are the stand- 
ards with us. But these rarely elevate one above the reach 
of public reprobation when guilty of wrong. There is a 
high tone of moral and social feeling still left to us at home 
which does not prevail so powerfully and freely here. The 
gold and silver of our country so often changes hands that 
it is virtually powerless. Here it is suffered to accumulate 
and become hereditary, and therefore is more difficult of ex- 
tinction. Still it is so circumscribed, and hampered, that 
the advancing light of the true, and right, the humane and 
universal, is constantly sweeping away the false and selfish, 
and virtue and nobleness, even in humble places, begins to 
be recognised and praised, whilst vice and wrong are scorned 
and rebuked wherever found. This proves the existence 
and growth of a healthy tone of sentiment, which affords 
the highest hopes for the future, and arms one with the for- 
titude to endure and the courage to fight for further victo- 
ries in the cause of God and humanity. 

Several incidents occurred, during our voyage to Lime- 
rick, which deserve mention, as they served to illustrate 
traits of character and opinions, and practices which were 
new to me. 

A portion of the passengers — and the whole deck was 
crowded — were very well dressed and appeared to be intel- 

18 



206 CAUSES OF NATIONAL ANTIPATHY. 

ligent and refined in their manners. Perhaps one third 
were of this class. Another third were like the common 
Irish emigrants who work on our canals and railroads. The 
remainder were a sort of middle class, who would compare 
very well with the less educated farmers, and mechanics 
and lahorers, in our country. Several government officers 
were on board, civil, military, and naval. They ranked, of 
course, number one — in their own estimation at least. I 
was sorry to see here, as on most occasions, a degree of 
hauteur on the part of the English towards the native in- 
habitants, which was exceedingly unkind and to us insuffer- 
able, because evidently calculated, if not intended, to irri- 
tate and exasperate the feelings of this unfortunate people, 
and keep up and increase the hostility which already pre- 
vails too extensively, and is the proximate cause of the dif- 
ficulties subsisting between the two countries. 

It can never be expected the Irish will harmonize, and 
dwell peaceably with the English, as the members of one 
nation, so long as their pride is constantly tortured by every 
officer, resident, or tourist who comes among them. De- 
stroy a man's ambition and he will be sullen and indifferent. 
Hector his pride and he will grow angry and resentful. An- 
nihilate his hope, and he will become despondent or furious. 
Oppress him with rents, tithes, and taxes till he can endure 
no longer, and he will grow angry and rebel, or indolent and 
starve. Then, to taunt and jeer him in his misery, is a 
crime and a cruelty too fiendish to be endured without a 
curse. 

I can not blame the poor, oppressed, starved Irish, for their 
hatred towards the English. I have seen too much to say 
there is no cause, no wrong in the complaint they make. 
But I pity them that they are not able to meet the wrong 
and insult with a stronger fortitude, in a more manly, digni- 
fied, and christian manner. It is a poor way to redress one 
wrong by inflicting another — to punish a landlord they do 
not like, by assassinating him, stealing behind a wall in a 
mean and cowardlv spirit, and shooting him dead. This is 



WRONG DOES NOT JUSTIFY RETALIATION. 207 

often done, I am told. I have seen reports from various 
parts of the kingdom, detailing numerous cases of this sort. 

I own it is exceedingly provoking to a spirit crushed and 
broken, to be insulted bj- one who has produced the misery 
suffered, and still twists harder the screws which are tortu- 
ring the very life out of them. If aught on earth could 
ever justify vengeance, and form an apology for retahation, 
the Irishman has it. His starved wife and children, as they 
turn their glazed eyes, already sunk deep in their sockets, 
and raise their attenuated hands, imploring him for a mor- 
sel of food, when he has none to give — his last farthing hav- 
ing been distrained for rent, and not a potato left for wife and 
child — do virtually, in the world's sense of it, plead with 
him to avenge their untimely death, and punish the cruel 
monster who has caused all their misery.* The deep heart 
of humanity revolts at the thought of such a wrong ; and 
yet it is well that cool judgment will not excuse the rash- 
ness of vengeance. One wrong does not justify another. 

It is better, doubtless, the poor peasant should, after he 
has covered the famished bodies of wife and children with 

* " Disease is cutting away the population at a rate not easily estimated ; and 
the people, under the pressure of their wretchedness, are fast degenerating 
into brutality. The poor are buried by stealth, uncoffined, and at night. 
Parents bury their children in gardens and by-places, to hide the fact of 
their death, ' in order that their miserable pittance of meal might not be 
stopped.' The dogs are turning into beasts of prey ; and we have heard a 
few days smce of a dog horrifying a parcel of men assembled at a smith's 
forge, by rushing among them with the head of a child in its mouth, which, 
no doubt, it had scraped out of its shallow, hasty grave." — Kerky Post. 

" Matthew Fleming, of Sharavogue, found, in one of his out-houses, the 
head of a poor man, and, on making search, he found the body in the wood 
of said place, with the hands eaten off. The head was brought by his dog 
during the night. It appears the poor man, who, it is supposed was from 
Marble Hill, county Galway, was heard to say that he would have died with 
want on the previous day, were it not that he got relief from a farmer named 
Dooly, of Clonaheen. The poor man died with want in the wood. The dogs, 
as carrion, fed on his corpse. Good God, how long will our rulers be deaf to 
these scenes, the like of which were never witnessed in a Christian countiy ! 
There was an inquest held — a verdict rendered accordingly." — Tifperary 
Vindicator. 



208 NOBILITY MUST BE SUSTAINED 

the few sods his remaining strength will enable him to 
spread over them, lie down by their side on the cold 
ground and die,* than to seek retaliation on the christian (?) 
landlord, who caused his misery, and now takes his life by 
inches. The world would call that murder, and hang him, 
while his is but a misfortune. Besides, to kill him would 
do no good. It would noi bring back the life of those he 
loved, but would pierce a new and poisoned dart into his 
own soul. The poor individual has not the 7'ight of the 
multitude of individuals called Government, or the conven- 
ticle called Inquisition, to remove the evils which disturb 
him. 

The lives of his wife and children, and his own, are of 
little worth compared with the glory of royalty, or the 
preservation of respect for an article in the creed. The 
poor man's family has no right to live, if the absentee land- 
lord's darling daughters are to be denied a yard of ribbon, 
a bouquet of flowers, a plate of ice-cream, or a Roman 
punch, when they want them ; nor Victoria's babies re- 
fused a single bauble they may covet. Oh, no ! that would 
be very wrong ; a grievous offence against the moral and 
religious sense of nobility. But it is all right to train 
whole armies, feed, and clothe, and pay them well, and 
march them forth to shoot their fellow-men, sack towns, 
ravish women, and perform every hellish act ! That is all 

*"We have dead bodies every where. I am obliged myself to handle 
them, coffin them, and put them in the earth. We can not procure a suffi- 
ciency of men to bury the dead, or of coffins to contain them. Every vil- 
lage has dead bodies lying unburied for many days ; almost every hovel in 
the suburbs of the town has its corpse. We can not, I repeat, get coffins, 
boards, or men for the necessity of the moment. May God forgive our ru- 
lers for their cruel conduct towards God's creatures here !" — Rev. Mr. Con- 
way, P. P. 

" The humane Protestant rector of Ballinrobe addresses Lord John Russell 
to-day, through our columns, and every line of his eloquent, expressive, and 
philanthropic letter is a voice from the dead — a voice telling of over one hot- 
DRED AND THIRTY-SIX REGISTERED DEATHS Occurring in One week in the poor- 
bouse of Ballinrobe ! !" — Dublin Journal. 



THOUGH THE PEOPLE STARVE. 209 

perfectly right, very cool ! greatly glorious ! and the brow 
of him who succeeds best in such noble acts, shall be 
wreathed with the greenest laurels. The whole nation 
shall do him reverence, and be taxed to rear equestrian 
statues, and triumphal arches, or columns of brass or marble, 
to perpetuate, through all time, the memory of his gallant 
deeds ! And he who solves a problem in theological mys- 
teries to the satisfaction of all who pretended to understand 
and believe it before ; or brandishes about an old argument 
to sustain the creed, shall be honored — perhaps sainted, 
though he may never have given a crumb from his table to 
feed a famished widow, or breathed a christian prayer in 
the cell of a dying captive ! 

Oh, Ireland, thou art a burlesque in the eyes of fat, ab- 
sent landlords, an aspiring government, and a proud church ! 
Thy misfortunes are great, but no wrong has been done 
thee ! There is no help for thy sons and daughters. Thy 
taxes, thy rents, thy tithes, thy ignorance must remain, though 
thy children starve ; and any attempt, on thy part, to re- 
lieve thyself, to change thy position, shall be promptly met. 
and the screw crush thy limbs, already mangled, still more ! 
Thou must not wince, nor utter a word ; but bear, in si- 
lence, the sneers of those who come among you, to look 
carelessly upon thy miseries, or impose new hardships! 

In conversation with quite an intelligent lady, who was 
going from Kilrush to Limerick with her daughter, a very 
modest, ])retty girl, of sixteen or seventeen, I was partially 
introduced into a new method of disposing of the affections, 
and preparing for the future condition of a child. It had 
become so common to hear the pitiable tales of suffering, 
and witness the proofs of oppression, ignorance, and misery, 
that it did really afford me great relief to converse with 
one who did not speak of her wo, destitution, and danger, 
but entered upon more general and agreeable topics. 

When the good lady found we were from America, she 
began a course of inquiries about our country, and the pros- 
pects and advantages of those of some property, and fair 

18* 



210 A mother's plans 

pretensions to education and respectability. I gave her 
what information I could, assuring her that for the indus- 
trious and virtuous there was a fair opportunity, that na- 
tionality was soon forgotten when a person entered into a 
sympathy with our social institutions ; and a new-comer 
would soon be recognised as a friend, if true to the princi- 
ples of a common humanity. 

She inquired what the prospects were for a young woman 
like her daughter. Misconceiving her ideas, I, rather un- 
gallantly, gave a description of the common condition of 
Irish girls who live in our families. She did not reprove 
me, but went on to speak of her daughter's qualities, and 
her education, informing me that she was now taking her 
to Limerick, to " finish her music," when she would be fitted, 
in every particular, for a gentleman's wife. I now saw my 
mistake, and apologized as well as I could, entering some- 
what into a detail of the method of making matches, on the 
voluntary system in our country. She was surprised that 
it was not left to the parents to arrange these matters, vir- 
tually to trade off their children to their own liking. For 
herself, she thought her daughter would be qualified for any 
gentleman, and she often heard the Americans made excel- 
lent husbands; she had therefore entertained serious thoughts 
of disposing of he>' real estate, and removing to America for 
the better establishment of her daughter in married life. 

I regretted I could not afford her any particular informa- 
tion on this subject, or make her any promises of aid in 
such a procedure. But she desired my name and address, 
(and I believe, all those of my companions,) which I could 
not refuse her, assuring her, at the same time, that I was 
married according to my own choice, and, being of age, 
even without a knowledge of my father till by letter I invi- 
ted him to the wedding. She thought she should come to 
America, as few chances of settling her daughter as she de- 
sired, existed at home. The English she did not like — she 
declared she should be verv unwilling to wed her child to 



TO MARRY HER DAUGHTER. 211 

one, if ever so rich, and few of her own countrymen were 
worthy of her hand. 

I admired the love and pride of that mother, and would 
not disturb her fond hopes, and so joined in praise of her 
child, which, by the way, I could do with much sincerity, 
as she was very pretty, modest, and intelligent. But I won- 
dered at the freedom with which the mother talked in her 
presence, and that she remained so unconcerned, on a sub- 
ject so nearly allied to herself and her destiny. To carry 
forward the train of remark, and see how far it might go 
beyond what would he conceived propriety among strangers 
at home, I ventured to ask, if I were single, whether there 
would be any hope for myself The mother readily assented 
there would ; that it would give her the greatest pleasure to 
bestow her daughter upon an American gentleman. The 
girl looked up and smiled modestly, but did not blush. I 
could not attribute this to coldness, nor indifference, nor 
want of modesty ; for her whole appearance and conduct 
was most proper, and her sensibilities and judgment truly 
refined. Her mother had a most profound respect for 
Americans, believed them all honest, and honorable, and 
she made the marriage of her only child with one, an object 
of her highest ambition. 

Had I been unmarried, and anxious for a speculation, I 
might have been induced to have made further inquiries 
about the terms of settlement, how much cotdd be ??iade by 
the operation, whether it " would pay," and so forth. But 
with all their love of money, of which the Yankees are ac- 
cused, I believe that beauty, character, and affection have 
much more to do with matrimony ni our country than in 
any other. It is a matter of choice between the parties — 
too often of fancy, without judgment, I admit ; and parents 
do little more than advise and assent to the voluntary con- 
tracts of their children. Here it is otherwise. Parents 
stipulate the terms, and the children consent to the bargain. 
Both methods may have objections, but the advantages are 
in favor of the former, especially when people wait until 



212 CHARACTER THE TEST OF RESPECT. 

judgment is matured, and do not rush blindly, and heedlessly 
into connexions where there is no similarity of taste and 
character, and discontent and misery can only be expected 
to follow. 

I w^as sori-y to be obliged, by a sense of duty awakened 
by the confidence reposed in me, to caution this devoted 
mother not to place too implicit confidence in all Ameri- 
cans, for like other people, we were not all perfect ; but de- 
ceit and treachery, and falsehood, and faithlessness, some- 
times finds room to hide away, and prepare to execute their 
base machinations upon unsuspecting innocence. I assured 
her we had many just and noble men, and our country af- 
forded a fair chance of success to all young people who were 
true to themselves, and their responsibilities. The field 
lies open to all ; the poor may grow rich, and the obscure 
honorable. The distinctions of family, and wealth are of 
no account in the formation of social relations. Character 
is the criterion. The sons of our most distinguished men 
may marry the daughters of the obscurest citizens, and ex- 
cite no wonder. Sometimes those of aristocratic feelings 
— generally those who have themselves risen suddenly from 
the humblest positions to affluence, and fashion — make up 
wry faces, and utter harsh words when son or daughter in- 
clines to choose a companion from the same ranks from 
which they have sprung ; but, if virtuous and handsome, 
all admire the taste, and approve the judgment of one, and 
rejoice in the good fortune of the other, because none who 
reflect can discover any wrong in the case. Therefore, if 
she wished her daughter to become the wife of an Ameri- 
can, who should be worthy of her hand, and who would be 
likely to make her happy, she must mingle in their society, 
on proper occasions, and wait the proposition of some lucky 
wight who should be fortunate enough to be smitten by 
such superior attractions as her daughter possessed, and 
receive a reciprocal return, and find favor in her sight, be- 
fore the throne should be occupied by another ; and then 



A WANDERING MINSTREL. 213 

no obstacle would be in the way of her becoming the queen 
of an American sovereign! 

There, thought I, that is about as much blarney as I am 
capable of using, or can well spare. The good mother re- 
ceived it with expressions of great favor, and assured me 
she should remove to America as soon as she could arrange 
her affairs to do it, without too much loss in the sale of her 
property. 

Soon after coming on board, some traveling musicians 
commenced playing several airs, among which were " Yan- 
kee Doodle," " Hail Columbia," " The Star-Spangled Ban- 
ner," and a variety of " Nigger Tunes," as they are called, 
such as " Dan Tucker," " Lucy Neil," " Lucy Long," 
" Take me back to Old Virginny." I could not fail to re- 
mark the pleasure which these tunes seemed to afford 
others, as well as ourselves. We felt as if we were at home 
during their performance. When the musician came 
round with his cap for a contribution, we asked him how 
he came to play so many American tunes. 

" Och," said he, " an' did'nt we knoo ye're Amirikins ; 
an' fa'th, an' would'nt we do somethin' to plase ye, who 
coome froom that blissid coounthry, which fed us when we 
were stharvin'." 

" But," said I, " you ought to play ' God save the Queen,' 
for she is your sovereign." 

" The divil a bit do I care for the Quane ; it's a small 
bit o' praise that I'd be afther givin' her, anyhoo. It's 
Amiriky that I loove, it is, moore than England, an' all the 
kings and quanes in the woorld." 

" Yes, but you should be true and loyal." 

" Is't true and loyal to oour opprissors, ye would have 
us ? Sorra a bit uv it will I ba afther giving them, at all, 
at all. Ay eh, praise the min that make us stharve ? Ye 
do noo such thing in yer coounthry, an' I knoo, I do ; an' 
it's that same that I'll not do aither, begorra." 

" Well, here's a sixpence for your blarney ; and you 



214 IRISH OPINION 

must play some of the tunes over again, or else give us 
some Irish airs." 

" An' sure, an' it's noo blaarnay, that I'm afther giving 
ye, at all. It's the thruth that I'm tellin' ye, when I spake 
well o' Amiriky ; that same blissed coounthry, an' the pa- 
ple in it. May the blissed Virgin presarve ii till I git there, 
afoore lang." 

" But how did you come to know we were Americans ?" 

" Och, sure, an' are not yer coollars turned down, as noo 
gintilmin but Amirikins have 'em." 

A little piqued that our nationality was so easily de- 
tected, only because it might prevent us from mingling, 
with the freedom we desired, among all classes, and secu- 
ring a confidence which would enable us to form a true 
estimate of what we saw, I remarked to him he had better 
play some British tunes, to humor the pride of the English- 
men, and they would give him more liberally. 

" The divil a farthin' moore will they be afther givin' 
me, nor that naither, an' I would play them all the tunes in 
the kingdom. It's not the same I'd plase, at all. Begorra, 
I'll not sthain my shooul with so great a sin, as to plase the 
min that oppriss and ruin me coounthry " 

This was said with an air of defiance, quite common 
with a class of the people, when speaking of England. 
An inveterate hostility is cherished towards that na- 
tion, and all their misfortunes and misery are set to the ac- 
count of English interference — high rents, heavy taxes, po- 
tato rot, and all. No matter if the landlord is an Irishman, 
and the middle-man lays on the exorbitant rents, or the 
small farmers charge enormously for con-acres. England 
is at fault for every thing. But for the union all would go 
well. "Repeal" that, and the wjiste lands and undrained 
bogs would produce bountifully, and all Ireland would be a 
paradise again, as in the days of the great Saint Patrick ! 

Such is the dream of these wretched people. They are 
ignorant, and, consequently, easily led by those who have 
their confidence, and blind and bigoted when once an opi- 



OF EXGLIrfH GENEROSITY. 215 

nion is formed. They have been made to believe that 
England is their bitterest enemy — that the government has 
no concern for their welfare, only to over-ride them with 
tithes and taxes, and force them to renounce their religion, 
or flee their country and leave it for an inheritance to the 
Protestants! If a school is established, it is only to con- 
vert their children from the true faith ; if an improvement 
is attem})ted, it is merely to increase the rent ; if a poor- 
house is built, it will add to their taxes and do no good. 
They are disheartened and distrustful ; and, so often cheat- 
ed, and so long oppressed, they have become suspicious 
of every body, even of one another. 

It is to be regretted that those who claim to be their su- 
periors, conduct themselves in a manner calculated to be- 
get and sustain such feelings. There is exhibited little of 
that kind forbearance, and benevolent concern, which a na- 
tion so long and deplorably depressed should receive at the 
hands of enlightened and christian rulers, and rich and 
" noble" landlords. Few evidences are given of any other 
disposition than that of enmity and unconcern, by those 
whose business it should be to exercise mercy and gene- 
rous aid towards a crushed and disheartened people, to 
raise them from their degradation, and guide them into the 
paths of intelligence, honor, and prosperity. 



SCENERY ALONG THE SHANNON. 

The scenery along the Lower Shannon is varied, and, in 
some places, romantic. It would be beautiful, actually 
charming, if one could banish the sight of destitution and 
misery which every where meet the eye. 

The mouth, from Keery-head to Loop-head, is ten or 
twelve miles wide, and the shores about the bay are bor- 
dered with caverned cliffs, and swelling hills, sundered by 
deep glens, narrow inlets, or boggy vallies, with tiers of 
mountains rising in the distance. The caves of Ballybun^ 
nian, worn out by the interminable fretting and dashing of 



216 GLYNN. 

the restless ocean, are objects of curiosity to the geologist 
and traveler, and the views about the Doon bay are re- 
markably beautiful. As we ascended the river the jutting 
cliffs, in some places rugged and precipitous, the rounded 
headlands, which divide the succession of small bays, the 
soft, green islets, the ruined castles and small villages dotted 
along the shores, which look respectable in the distance, 
with here and there the aristocratic seat of some lord or 
gentleman, with fine fields, smooth lawns, and extensive 
plantations, added much to the variety and beauty of the 
scenery. But the small turf-boats, with dirty, brown sails, 
managed by ragged and wretched boatmen, and every 
where the traces of poverty and neglect, so mar the beau- 
ties of creation that one can not contemplate them without 
pain. 

A few miles above Tarbert we passed the village of 
Glynn, near which was pointed out to us a rather elegant 
seat, the property of Sir, or Lord, or Hon. Fitzge- 
rald, " the Knight of Glynn." There are also several very 
pretty villas about the town, which, at this season, make a 
fine appearance, as if they might be the abodes of wealth 
and rural contentment. But that a family can find peace 
and happiness in the midst of so much misery as abounds 
in all directions, seems to me impossible ; for, if they have 
a heart to enjoy, they must have a soul to pity, and such 
deplorable scenes of destitution as must meet their eyes at . 
every turn, must either overwhelm them with sorrow, or 
steel their finer feelings against all impressions which help 
to form the sum of human happiness. 

An intelligent gentleman, of whom I learned much con- 
cerning this country, pointed out to me the ruins of Glynn 
castle, and told me a story about a brave defence made 
there by some bold knight, more than two hundred years 
ago, who w^as finally overcome, and the whole garrison 
cruelly butchered by the English under General Carew. 
Farther on, he designated several other interesting places, 
the villas of the gentry, the demesnes of lords, castles and 



FEUDAL CASTLES NEW ENGLAND SCHOOL-HOUSES. 217 

villages, with interesting scraps of history, and legends. I 
did not note even the names of all of them, but I remem- 
ber Foyne's Island and Mount Trenchard, on the south, 
the elegant and romantic seat of some lord, the village of 
Loughill, at which we took off two boat loads of passen- 
gers, Cahircon, and several fine demesnes on the Clare 
shore. 

Winding between some small islands, we entered into 
the broad estuary of the Shannon, which spreads off to the 
north, at the head of which is the town and castle of Clare. 
This bay changes the aspect on the north. The craggy, 
bleak limestone hills cease, and a broad and beautiful val- 
ley stretched off to the northeast, bordered by a gentle ele- 
vation, which is the more remarkable for a growth of large 
timber which covers it, forming a great novelty in a coun- 
try almost entirely destitute of forests. On this side, the 
gray walls of several old castles, covered with ivy, were 
pointed out by name. 

Castles have become so frequent, that I no longer feel 
interest enough in them to remember their names. The 
whole country is full of them. They are as thick as 
school-houses in New England, but have never protected 
half as many noble hearts, nor did a ten thousandth part as 
much service to the country or the world. These were 
but the moral nurseries of feudal tyrants, who oppressed 
their vassals, and took shelter in them from the fury of 
rival clans. Those are the free nurseries of sovereigns — 
God's noblemen, who breathe the air of freedom, and pro- 
claim liberty to all. These enslaved the masses, and sus- 
tained a sham nobility by oppression. Those break off the 
chains of ignorance, and help the weakest rise to wealth 
and honor. Who can doubt the results ? Here is a na- 
tion of bondsmen., crushed in spirit, shrouded in ignorance, 
bigoted in religion, uncared for by others, and unable to 
help themselves — famished, starved, and dying. There the 
humblest have knowledge ; all minds are free to examine 
every subject, and reject or appi-ove, sustain or condemn ; 

19 



218 BUNRATTY. 

and a fair field is open to all, where each may run his own 
race unencumbered, and expect honor or shame, wealth or 
poverty to be meted out according to his deserts. Here a 
few noblemen and gentry are born to titles and riches, 
which can not be sequestered for an honest debt or deep dis- 
grace, but go down by hereditary law — divine right — to the 
next akin, until some royal mandate changes the succession. 
There no claim of primogeniture can be sustained, and no 
act of bankruptcy save from disgrace the man who 
would cheat an honest creditor. Here a man glories in an 
elevation to which he is born, and occupies without merit, 
living in splendor while thousands famish about him — mere 
tenants-at-will. There a man is promoted for what he does 
and deserves, and others praise or shun him as they please 
— no one act can shield him from censure and disgrace 
for vices afterwards committed. Such are some of the 
contrasts between an old Irish feudal castle, and a New- 
England school-house. Who has not a preference ? 

I mention the grim old castle of Bunratty, near which is 
an elegant modern mansion, because of its fine appearance, 
and from the fact that it is still occupied as a police bar- 
racks, thus retaining something of its original character — 
the power to overawe the wretched people and keep them 
in subjection. From a distance it appears to be one of the 
largest, most curious, and stately piles we have seen, and 
worthy the renown of the de Clares who built it, and bore 
rule along the north shore of the Shannon for a long period. 

On the the south, a mile or two up a small river, which 
is navigable, is the town of Askeaton. The gruff walls of 
the castle rise from a solid rock in the river to the height 
of near a hundred feet, and are in a tolerable state of ruin. 
This was another stronghold of the Desmonds, and was 
blown up by Sir George Carew at the time he overrun this 
part of Munster. Near the river are the remains of a 
Franciscan monastery. The situation of these ruins, and 
the town, is very beautiful, and, in any country but Ireland, 
would be a resort for the lovers of the grand and beautiful 



HOSTILITY OF RACES. 219 

in rural scenery. The naked, craggy, and bleak mountains 
stretching off in the rear, the lofty summit of Knockpatrick, 
which commands an extensive view of the whole valley of 
the Lower Shannon, including a large portion of the coun- 
ties of Limerick, Clare and the north of Kerry, with parts 
of Tipperary and Galway, overlooking inumerable hills and 
valleys, castles, villas, hamlets and villages, with a still 
greater number of mud hovels, and miserable cottages, gives 
great variety and strong contrast to the scene. 

The town itself is not very thrifty, though fair for the 
west of Ireland. The greatest beauties are outside ; and I 
was told there were many places of great interest in the 
history and legends of the country situated in the vicinity, 
such as Drumdeely castle, close on the bank of the Shannon, 
the parochial church, a part of which is in ruins, the village 
of Shana-golden, near which are the ruins of Manistir-na- 
Gillagh, and Shanet castle, where originated the famous 
wai'-cry of the clans of Desmonds, " Shanet-a-boo," which 
rung through Munster in opposition to the " Crom-a-boo" 
of the Fitzgeralds, of Leinster. The interference of the 
English in favor of the latter, who more readily accepted 
the reformed religion, succeeded in a conquest against the 
former, who were mostly slain or expatriated, and the vast 
estates given to the former ; and thus a new set of oppres- 
sors was created. 

It will be found, all through the west of Ireland, that 
many of the noblemen who were originally French, were 
forcibly supplanted by the English who have never felt much 
real sympathy for the people, simply holding them as vassals. 
Hence the cause of the frequent disturbances, and the con- 
tinual hatred, dissatisfaction, discord, and misery which pre- 
vails in this portion of the country. 

The races have not coalesced ; no genuine friendship sub- 
sists between them. The small farmers and laborers look 
upon the landlords as their worst enemies, whose sole ob- 
ject is to wrench from them the last farthing they can get. 
And in their hate and spite, they, like all others actuated by 



220 NEGLIGENCE OF TENANTS. 

wrong and vengeful motives, deprive themselves of the 
means of comfort, for the mere fun, it would seem, of 
trying to torment others. They will not improve their 
lands for fear the landlords will raise on the rents — never 
considering that, if they should make an acre, rented at 10s. 
which now produces not over £3 or £4 income, pro- 
duce £l2 or £l5 — as much land is capable of doing — they 
would be the gainers although the landlord should increase 
the rent to 20s. or 30s. They have so much respect for 
principle, or rather, such a bitter malignity against the 
landlords, that they prefer to dwell in filth and starve, than 
to do any thing to benefit themselves if their oppressors are 
to reap any advantage from it at the same time. 

This is about the only explanation which can be given 
of the poverty and social degradation of a large portion of 
the people. There are other causes, no doubt, which con- 
duce, indirectly, to the same unfortunate and miserable 
state of things. And it may be as well stated here as any 
where, that the wicked negligence, oppression, and tyranny 
of many landlords, and their worse agents, have tended in 
a great degree, to produce this condition. Many landlords 
rarely come to see their properties, and know virtually 
nothing about their lands or tenants. Several never visit 
the country in their lives, and very many never more than 
once or twice, and they do not stay but a few days — nor 
then give half the attention to the real condition of the 
people that an observing tourist would in half the time. 
They live in London, or on their estates in different parts 
of the kingdom, or, it may be, at Interlarken, or some where 
else on the continent, where they can live cheap and cut a 
big dash, with their limited incomes ; never reflecting that 
by coming to live upon their properties, and devoting some 
attention to the science of agriculture, ditching, manuring, 
and improving their lands, they could enrich themselves, 
and improve the condition of their tenants, and soon be 
able to pay off their honest debts, and make a fair and hon- 



LANDLORDS AND AGENTS. 221 

orable appearance amongst honest, honorable, and truly 
Christian people. 

As it is, they trust all to heartless agents, whose sole ob- 
ject is to wrench out, each year, all they possibly can, both to 
secure their own per centage, and satisfy their needy employ- 
ers, caring no more for the tenants than for beasts. Every 
thing is trusted in their hands, and they, by the habits of 
their lives, are rarely men of comprehensive and far-seeing 
views — of generous and forbearing souls. Their business, 
and the men they have to deal with, both above and be- 
low, disqualify them from giving much attention to any 
thing like improvement ; for they have little confidence in 
either, nor much in themselves, except to make what they 
can out of both, while entrusted with a stewardship. They 
know the landlords care for little but their ease, and rents, 
and roast beef, and plum-pudding, and pot of beer, and a 
gay time at the club-room ; and that their tenants can not 
hate them much worse if distrained every quarter for their 
rent. So they manage, by going armed, to collect the op- 
pressive tributes. 



THE TENURE OF LANDS A CAUSE OF MISERY. 

It can hardly be expected the small farmers, mere 
•' tenants-at-will," will enter into any comprehensive sys- 
tem of improvements. The tenure by which they could hope 
to reap any thing like a fair reward for their labor, is so 
precarious, so subject to the whim and interest of the land- 
lord or agent, that there is poor encouragement for them. 
Besides, few have either the knowledge or the means to 
carry out any system of improvement which presents a 
prospect of future recompense for their outlay, eveji where 
they have leases of five, ten, or twenty years. 

In some places where we have been, such leases exist, 
but in almost every instance a renewal of them is refused, 
and the tenantry is ejected to make room for higher rents, 
or another class, more suitable to the landlord or agent. 

19* 



222 IRISH AND AMERICAN LANDLORDISM. 

In a vast many cases a large amount is realized by re- 
leasing the mere right to live on the land for a fixed time. 
The competition for such a privilege is often very great, te- 
nants being frequently obliged to give as high as £l5 or £20 
an acre, when the lease has only a few years to run. One 
gentleman told me of an instance in Ulster, where the te- 
nant himself sold out his " right," which had but nine years 
to run, for £l2, ($60,) an acre, the land paying a rent of 
30s. ('ST. 50,) an acre, annually. Pretty dear land we 
should call that in our country.* 

There is, among the " squatters" on our new lands, a 
similar practice of selling out their " betterments," includ- 
ing all the improvements they have made upon it. But 
the " tenant-right," where it exists, includes nothing but 
the mere peaceable holding of a certain property for a spe- 
cified period. All the improvements belong to the owner 
of the soil. 

Some idea can be formed of Irish landlordism, by the 
tenants of the Patroon, who have, of late, made so much 
noise about " anti-rentism." But they have not a tithe of 
the reason for complaint of the best tenants here, although 
a somewhat similar principle is concerned. The exclusive, 
hereditary, and anti-republican system of our American 
lords is not secured by quite so many feudal tenures nor 
hedged up quite so securely from the invasion of moral 
sentiment, and the spu'it of equal rights, as is the landlord- 
ism of Ireland. The same feeling burns deeply in Irish 
hearts, but they are so crushed that no opportunity is given 
for any thing like a fair expression of it. 

In our western States, if a man " squats" on a piece of 
land which has not yet come into market, improves it, builds 
a house, and provides himself a home, he is understood to 
have a sort of " pre-emption right." He and his neighbors 

* " I have known a tenant bid for a farm that I was perfectly well acquainted 
with, worth £5Q a year. I saw the competition get up to such an extent, 
that he was declared the tenant at £450." — Evidence of Mr. Hurley, of 
Tralee, before Poor Com., p. 851. 



SQUATTERS IN NEW STATES. 223 

understand that nobody has any right to naolest him. And 
if any avaricious speculator should have the temerity to 
come in competition with him at the land-sale, and run the 
price above what is understood to be a fair value of the 
land, and so secure the fee to it, he would find it a difficult 
matter to obtain the peaceable possession, without ^rst pur- 
chasing the consent of the " squatter." He and all the 
neighborhood would rise, at once, against the intruder, 
whose purse happened to be a little longer than the poor 
man's whose sweat had given to the land all the value that 
raised it above the simple government price. This may be 
called a " resistance of the law," but, in its working, it is 
the exhibition of a high moral sentiment, vastly more just 
and conservative than the legal enactments of partisan 
legislators, passed by men no less susceptible to the influ- 
ence of private interest than the honest, humble, and 
simple-hearted people, who have a sense of what is justice 
between man and man, and who will not willingly allow 
their homes and hard earnings to be wrenched from them 
without resistance. 

The result of this " forcible resistance of law and order" 
has had a most excellent effect in the settlement of our new 
States. Adventurers who were willing to pursue an honor- 
able vocation, and, by their own labor, " turn the wilderness 
into a fruitful field," and make the " desert blossom as the 
rose," felt a degree of security that they should not be mo- 
lested, that their neighbors would stand by them and prevent 
their forcible expulsion from their property on the land, by 
greedy and heartless speculators who cared for nothing but 
to grow rich upon other people's earnings. In few, or no 
instances have these rough and hardy borderers, the pioneers 
of civilization, been guilty of any refusal to meet the price 
of land as fixed by government, though they would fight to 
the last drop of blood, to prevent the invasion of their rights 
by a set of blood-hound speculators who have tracked 
them, at every remove, to their forest homes, and waited for 
another opportunity to pounce upon them and drive them 



224 DISCRIMINATING REVENGE, 

from their improvements without a fair recompense for their 
labor. All true growth in this world is from the seed to 
the tree. And this principle has become law, and given 
" pre-emption rights" to all actual settlers on unsold lands. 

A similar principle I find in this country, cherished, or 
rather lurking, in the hearts of the people. But it lacks 
form, and method, manifesting itself only in cowardly acts 
of assassination^ or a dogged indifference to all the rational 
and decent comforts of life — willing to starve themselves 
and families for the sake of tormenting their landlords. It 
is no uncommon thing to hear of the shooting of land- 
lords or their agents, under circumstances apparently the 
most aggravated on both sides. I have read of several such 
occurrences since I have been in the country, and had them 
confirmed by the most unquestionable authority. I had sup- 
posed the reports were fictions, for I did not suppose that, in 
a country so watched by armies of soldiers and policemen, 
there could be any danger of personal violence, such as 
often goes across the water in the newspapers. But I find 
it all confirmed, and in its worst possible aspects. Indeed, 
it is no infrequent thing for a landlord or his agent, to be 
shot dead while riding in his carriage to or from church, or 
about his regular business. I have felt some alarm at our 
own safety in traveling in so savage a country, for actually 
the cases of shooting are more frequent here than on the 
borders of our Indian territories. 

But, on inquiry, I have found that there is a careful dis- 
crimination in the objects of this fatal spite ; that it is not 
against a class, a reckless hate and violence, but in retalia- 
tion for personal injuries, which they honestly believe to be 
the cause of the suffering which has destroyed their wives 
and children, and threatens their own lives. It is a sort of 
desperation which frequently accompanies starvation.* 

* " Take away the greatest cause of agitation ; give leases and act fairly 
by the tenant, and the agitator's occupation is almost gone." — Foster's Let- 
ters, p. 141, 



NEGLIGENT LANDLORDS. 225 

The case stands thus. The principal — almost the entire, 
support of the common Irish population, is derived from the 
cultivation of the land. If a man can get a few roods, at 
any thing like a fair rent, he is satisfied, and counts himself 
happy ; he goes to work with a good heart, according to his 
best knowledge, secures a livelihood, and pays his rent 
promptly, if he is fortunate enough to have good land, favor- 
able seasons, and a high market. But here are the contin- 
gencies which produce Ireland's miseries and ceaseless agi- 
tation, and lead to the unlawful and inhuman acts of vio- 
lence before alluded to. 

In the first place, few Irishmen have good landlords, or 
get their lands at fair rents. I do not mean to say that the 
landlords — be they English, Irish, or Scotch, are necessarily 
bad men, or inhuman. I speak of them as landlords ; in 
which capacity, I understand them to be morallv under 
solemn obligations to do right by themselves, their families, 
their tenants, the neighborhood, and the nation. For what 
has God, (?) or the government, entrusted them with the ex- 
clusive right to the soil, from which man and beast are fed, 
if it is not to make it a source of productive increase to the 
means of life and comfort ?* 

" Where ordinary attention to an estate, and to a tenantry has been ex- 
hibited, we have seen the value of the estate " trebled in eighteen years," and 
the people made comfortable and happy." — Ibid, p. 414. 

* " The SMALL GENTRY, or ' squirecns,' as they are called — men of iJSOO 
or ^£400, ($1,500 or $2,000) a year strengthen these failings by the most 
ridiculous pride. Such men are too proud to send their son's into counting- 
houses of merchants, to learn some business and fight their own way as good 
citizens, and they are too poor to bring them up to professions ; but they will 
raise heaven and earth in patroaage-hunting to get a son into the Post Office, 
at .£80 or jCIOO a year. Their pride is sufficient to prevent their seeking inde- 
pendence by praiseworthy and honest industry and enterprise, but is not suffi- 
cient to prevent their becoming slaves and sycophants of every ' great man,' 
for the most paltry advantages." — Ibid, p. 166. A two edged sword, in un- 
skilful hands: Why did not the " Times Commissioner" propose a way they 
might work — yes — work " with their own hands," and till the waste landg 
and make them productive ? And why do not the great gentry or Squir- 
MAGNATES, and noblemen, show an example to humble men ] We Americana 



226 RIGHTS IN THE SOIL. 

Very well ; they are too rich, or proud, or lazy, to till the 
land themselves, and so entrust the management of it to 
others, retaining to themselves the right to an income suffi- 
cient to supply their necessities and luxuries, and enable 
them to maintain a degree of ease and splendor suited to 
their tastes or the circles in which they move. Now all this 
I will not object to, for so is the practice of the world. But 
I might go back and question their titles, asking in whose 
name they got possession of those fifty, or one hundred, or 
two hundred thousand acres of God's earth, made for human 
homes — for " the earth is the Lord's and the fulness there- 
of," and he " has made of one blood all nations of men, for 
to dwell on all the face of the earth," so that each man has 
a right to life, and the means of it which come out of the 
ground, provided he uses proper diligence to obtain it. At 
least, society has no right to throw about restrictions to ex- 
clude him from such opportunity. 

I may be told it was William, or Henry, or James, 
or Cromwell, or Charles II, or Elizabeth, or, if preferred, 
the O'JNeilS; the Desmonds, the McCarthys, the O'Briens, 
or even Brian Boroihme, or Saint Patrick, whose gracious 
benignity secured to their noble progenitors the exclusive 
right to the soil in perpetuity forever. But how came they 
by such power over God's heritage, to slice up His earth, 
which was made for all His children as much as air and 
water, and parcel it out with such discriminating par- 
tiality ? If they assume to rule in His name, and by 
divine right, as His appointed emissaries, they should be 
careful to obey His revealed will, lest they awake His dis- 
pleasure ! But this is not the point. I go not backwards 
now to inquire into titles, because the aristocratic will not 
hear me, or will feign not to understand me ; and it would 
do the rest no immediate good if they did. 

I return, then, to the position which the landlord takes, 

look upon the assumptions of British nobility as a very small — but exceeding- 
ly wicked thing. 



Ireland's responsibility. 227 

that, being in possession of the fee to a certain tract of 
God's earth, he has a right to a support from it ; nay, to ail 
the income he can make it yield him. Very well ! So 
much we yield him, not because it is right, but because it 
is law and custom. He can ask no more. Now, what 
does he do with his vast heritage of land ? Does he come to 
it, and, like a prudent and wise man, provide for its best 
management, so as to yield him a rich income ? Does he 
overlook it, and inquire into the best means of recovering 
what is waste and unproductive ? Does he look after his 
tenantry, and see that they are, first of all, made comforta- 
ble, and qualified to work to advantage for the best good 
of the property ?* It would seem that mere self-interest, 
the narrowest (but perhaps strongest) motive to action, 
would prompt him to do so, to say nothing about the 
broader principles of justice, humanity, and religion. 

But no ; he does no such thing ; probably not in one 
case in a hundred. He stays away, and knows virtually 
nothing of the condition of his estates, or of his ten, or 
twenty, or a hundred thousand tenants-^-has never seen 
either, and never wants to, so long as he gets rent enough 
to support him some where else. He was born out of the 
country, is alien to all upon or about his property, and 
though an Irishman, he has learned to hate his country, 

* " The law of entail and settlement charges on property often so cripple the 
landowners that they are frequently, as compared with their nominal property, 
poor men ; extravagant habits, family pride to live befitting the nominal in- 
come, load the estates of such men with incumbrances, until, at length, the 
DERNIER RESORT of an Irish landlord is taken: he flies to Florence and lives 
at an hotel, where at the table d'hote he can boast of his Irish acres — or he 
resides in London, in lodgings, and in obscurity. In either case, there is no 
capital for the benefit of Ireland. In the one place capital can never be cre- 
ated, in the other ease it is sunk and wasted. The land is left to the manage- 
ment of agents, or it gets into the hands of the receivers in Chancery — in either 
of which cases there is but one object — to extract as much rent as possible. 
With such a state of things, the want of emploj'ment, the distress and misery, 
and the disturbances of Ireland, under whatever name, are not difficult to be 
accounted for." — Foster's Letters ox Ireland, p. 67. 



228 EVIL OF ABSENTEE LANDLORDS, 

and despise his countrymen. He has heard, through his 
venal agent, a most horrid account of the savageness of 
the inhabitants, made so by his own abusive conduct, or 
cruel neglect, and does not care to visit them.* 

Every where we hear censures heaped upon absentee 
landlords. f Now, if they were at home, where they be- 
long, looking after their interests, they would not be for 
ever draining the country of all its income, to squander it 
at foreign courts, and thus leave it impoverished, but would 
spend it where it would do some good, enrich the country, 
and increase the value of the properties and the comforts 
of the people. J 

The second evil I mention, as a prolific cause of the present 
misery of Ireland, is the conduct of the agents who stand be- 
tween the owner and cultivator of the soil. In some cases, 
these agents are appointed by the landlord and act directly 

* " We are under agents and bailiffs, who have no feeling for the people, 
our landlord being an absentee nobleman. He never comes near us to see if 
we are oppressed or tyrannized over. We should have some hope if our land- 
lord would visit us once a year, that we should have some redress." — Fos- 
ter's Letters on Ireland, p. 153. 

t " To speak plainly : to hear a nation bawling out misery and beggary, 
and to see such numbers of her wise and good children fluttering about the 
world in splendor and magnificence, seems, at first sight, an irreconcilable 
contradiction. People that have common sense, humanity, and honesty them- 
selves, will be apt to suppose them in others, and can hardly believe that so 
many noblemen and gentlemen of Ireland can riot and blaze abroad, while so 
many thousands of their fellow-citizens are starving for want of their help at 
home, and their native country is reduced to beggary and a deadly consumption. 
' Even dogs,' they say, ' when sick, know their own physic, and take it effectu- 
ally ;' and I therefore heartily wish many of our people, at home and abroad, 
may, for the future, give us some proofs of their having some share in this natural 
instinct as may make us full amends for the want of all rational management 
of themselves and their substance, to prevent our ruin." — Preface to Dr. 
Madden's work, " Reflections and Resolutions for the gentlemen op 
Ireland." — Ibid, p. 67. 

t " In the words of another, ' it (absenteeism) is the ruin of the country. 
We have not a resident landlord within ten miles of us. Though there is be- 
tween i;50,000 and £60,000 a year taken out of the neighborhood, we do 
not get jEIOO of it returned.' " — Ibid, p. 100. 



AGENTS AND MIDDLE-MEN. 229 

for him, which is, perhaps, the least objectionable method, 
taken as a whole, by the absentee proprietor. But cases 
are not wanting of their faithlessness, both to their em- 
ployers and the tenants. I have had the most undoubted 
proofs of the most wicked and inhuman treatment of these 
task-masters, in numberless instances ; and there are not 
wanting evidences of their treachery and dishonesty to the 
landlords themselves. On large estates, numerous sub- 
agents are employed, who increase the miseries, and feel 
less compunction, inasmuch as they feel less responsibility.* 
The dishonesty and knavery of the agents are bad enough, 
heaven knows ; but it is not half equal to the oppressions 
of the " middle-men," as they are called. This is a class 
of petty landlords, a kind of stock-jobbers, who hire large 
tracts of land at cheap rents, and then underlet them in 
small portions, at enormous prices. f This is done in vari- 

* " The landlord and agent are both absentees, and it is a great loss to the 
tenantry upon a large estate, when it happens so. I think it would be better 
if one or both of them were living upon the estate." — Land Com., p. 159. 

" You may say nineteen-twentieths of this barony are owned by ab- 
sentees." — p. 144. 

t " The majority of the landlords are non-residents, and very much of the 
land is let to middlemen on leases. The land is thus taken out of the manage- 
ment of the landlord, and the middle-man, having no permanent interest in it, 
covers it with a pauper tenantry, from which he exacts a competition rent, 
and at the end of his term renders it up to the landlord to deal with as he 
can. The land being generally hilly and rocky, is let by the cow's grass and 
not by the acre. A tenant can live pretty comfortably on about ten cows' 
grass. ' Land ranges from £2 to £4 rent, by a cow's grass, according to the 
quality and quantity of the pasture.' (Evidence of Mr. Eugene O'Sullivan, 
of Westcove, four miles from Derrynane, O'Connel's residence.) The sub- 
division, however, amongst the tenants, especially near the sea-shore, has gone 
on to such an extent, that most of them have not more than a cow's grass 
a-piece to live upon. T.his will give a clue to their poverty. A cow, on fair 
good land, in this part of Kerry, will yield a firkin and a half of butter a 
year. A firkin of butter is worth £2 15s. ; a firkin and a-half will therefore 
leave about £4 a year, and the rent is from £2 to £4 for this cow's grass. 
A patch of land is manured with sea-weed and shell sand, which the poor, 
barefooted women carry in hampers on their backs great distances, and on 
this they raise their potatoes for a year's consumption. The value of their 



230 COTTIERS THE MAIN SUFFERERS. 

ous ways. They some times, and the more honorable 
ones, or less knavish, simply stand in the character of an 
agent responsible for the rent, and are careful to put an addi- 
tional price, abundantly sufficient to secure themselves 
from the possibility of any loss. Many get long and cheap 
leases from bankrupt landlords, and go to work and build 
towns, mills, and factories, drain lands, and make other per- 
manent improvements, as if the property was actually their 
own. 

It is not unfrequent that such men amass large fortunes, 
and, in turn, lease their rights to an other class, who be- 
come more greedy of gain, and vastly worse oppressors 
than the land owners.* Some times this subletting is car- 
ried down, by these speculators in human rights and mise- 
ries, to the fourth and fifth degree. The poor cottier, un- 
derlaying all, is doomed to support the monstrous burden 
that oppresses him, or be crushed to death. f From the 

butter hardly pays their rent, and the buttermilk and potatoes are the only 
food or means of subsistence which the small tenants have. The laborers 
are worse off; they have not the buttermilk." — Foster's Letters on Ire- 
land, p. 389. 

* " The middle classes live by subletting, and subletting, and again sublet- 
ting the land, at increased rentals. This is the extent of their enterprise." — 
Ibid, p. 145. 

t " In filthiness and squalid poverty, starving on a rood of land, with miles of 
waste land around him, which the application of knowledge and industry 
would make teem with plenty, the poor Kerry farmer exists, in contented 
wretchedness. Neglected by his landlord, he knows nothing beyond the 
growing of potatoes ; oppressed by the hard fisted middle-man, who lives by 
squeezing another rent out of his industry, he is steeped in hopeless poverty ; 
cheated and robbed by the bailiffs and drivers, who extort from him his last 
sixpence for rent, and their fees ; and pounced upon by the middle -man for an 
increased rent, if he improves an acre of land, he learns cheating and extortion 
from his betters, and practices both on the wretched being who labors on his 
farm. In a hovel like a pigsty, in which it is impossible to stand upright, with- 
out chimney and without window, with but one room, an iron pot, and a rude 
bedstead, with some straw litter, as the only furniture, bed, or bed-clothes, 
the laborer, in the midst of half a dozen nearly naked children, with his bare- 
footed wife, sits squatted on the mud floor, round the peat fire. A garden- 
plot of potatoes is their whole subsistence, and for this patch of land, and the 



CON-ACRES. 231 

pores of his skin oozes out the sweat which circulates h'fe 
and fashion up to the nobleman who sits in the House of 
Lords, figures at the exchequer, bears the trail of Mrs. Vic- 
toria Guelph, or loiters, with his family, about the cities and 
watering places of the continent. He supports the petty 
aristocracy, so abundant in all Irish towns, in addition, and 
then is called lazy, indolent, and worthless, and sneered at 
as unfit to live in such a bountiful and beautiful country. 
His very birth-place is begrudged him, and, in cold charity, 
he is helped off to America or Australia ! Merciful hea- 
ven ! Is there no justice left in human hearts ? No com- 
passion for the wrongs and ills of a poor and distressed people ? 
And then the larger farmers, learning the method, and 
imbibing the spirit from their superiors, will split up their 
farms and let them out by the year in " con-acres," at ex- 
orbitant prices, sometimes as high as £5, £7, and even 
£lO.* A "con-acre" is a piece of land plowed and manur- 
ed. Every system is resorted to, from the highest to the 
lowest, to spunge out something from the next below, and 
set at ease upon their necks. It is no wonder that the Irish 
are proverbially suspicious, and jealous of every body. 
Their whole training tends to induce such a condition of 
mind. They are oppressed, cheated, and neglected by the 
" noble," and nobody seems to show the least regard for 

hovel which shelters him and his family, his labor is sold to some farmer, who 
lets him his land and hovel for a year." — Foster's Letters on Ireland, p. 
•388. 

* A Case.-" The proprietor in fee, is Mr. Alderman Harty, who purchased 
from an individual in whose favor it had been confiscated after the battle of 
Aughrim, in the revolution of 1688. Mr. Harty receives 9d. per acre from 
Major Warburton, the first lessee ; Mr. Handy pays under an old lease, 2s, 
6d. an acre to Major. W. John North holds under Mr. Handy, and pays 63. 
an acre ; John North has sublet to several small tenants, and receives from 
them on an average of £1, 7s. an acre." — Poor Inquiry, Ireland, Ap. F. 
p. 142. 

" And sometimes the farmers, in such cases, to enable them to pay these 
high rents, let out fragments of land manured to cottiers, in what is termed 
' Con-acre,' for which the general price is £B to iJlO, the acre." — Foster's 
Letters, p. 70. 



232 REDEEMING aUALITIES. 

them. Their own neighbors are as overbearing and ungen- 
erous as any body else, and so they are taught to be sus- 
picious and hateful of one another. 

The whole mystery of the Irish character has been solved 
and made plain to me, since I have been among them. I 
would except those educated under more favorable circum- 
stances ; for nobody has a deeper respect and admiration, 
almost reverence, for true human nature than myself. And 
instead of learning to hate, I have come to love the Irish, 
and to pity them ; for I see, even in the lowest classes, and 
in their humblest conditions, a living semblance of the 
original image ; deformed, defaced, and broken, to be sure ; 
like the world-famed statue of Venus de Medicis, which 
was dug from deep ruins, and found in eighteen fragments, 
and some parts missing at that ; and I have faith that some 
moral or social Michael Angelo will yet arise, and, with pro- 
per encouragement, clear away the rubbish and give form 
and direction to the latent, natural qualities, which, it is by 
all acknowledged, the Irish possess in no mean degree. 

This suggests the remark, that all the " agitations" of O'- 
Connel, and "Repeal" doctrines of O'Brian, or "Catholic 
Reform Bills," or " Irish Poor Laws," " Rate-in-aid," and 
every thing of the kind, will accomplish little more than a 
pleasing dream to the advocates of the respective measures. 
They do not reach the cause of the evil. They may palliate 
the symptoms, soothe the agitation, and prolong the crisis. 
But the disease remains untouched ; the virus continues 
to circulate, and the whole system sinks deeper and deeper 
into an incurable typhoid. 

The great curse of Ireland is a social one, and lays 
deeper than political agitation, or forcible revolutions. The 
repeal of the Union could not touch it ; but most likely 
w^ould aggravate the evils ; for there is no sympathy, no 
confidence in Irish hearts, and there can be no union or 
concert of action. I mean there is no sympathy for any 
thing like political, associated action. There are not in the 
masses the necessary qualities of self-government. Men 



WHAT PARLIAMENT CAN DO. 233 

must be and feel free, before they can establish a free govern- 
ment ; — must be republicans before they can establish a 
republic ; must love their fellow-men, have confidence in 
them, and respect their rights, before they can hope to unite 
in a successful revolution, or achieve any great measure of 
reform in which all can participate. 

I dislike, — radical as I am, to be obliged to say these 
things, in this place ; but I am here an observer and a friend 
to all. My sympathies are with the people always. I have 
no respect for wigs nor miters, crowns nor coronets. But I 
love humanity and pity those who are suffering wrong. I al- 
ways prefer the stammering approbation of the poor man, 
whose stifled words and tearful eyes tell his sincerity, than the 
condescending and patronizing attention of any proud aristo- 
crat. Yet, with all my faith in humanity, and love for free- 
dom, religious and political, I do not believe that the com- 
mon remedies proposed for Ireland are specific or sufficient. 

Parliament can do something, but not by " Repealing the 
Union," or passing " Rate-in-aid" bills, or building work- 
houses, or increasing the taxes, or shipping over money for 
the relief of the out-door poor. They must compel absentee 
and bankrupt landlords to pay their debts like honest men, 
and, if need be, sequestrating the immense estates which 
have been enjoyed, these three or four centuries without 
having ever paid a stiver for them ; — a strong dose, but a 
just one ; for these properties were confiscated from their 
original feudal lords and given by royal favor, and having 
had them so long, humanity and common justice would alike 
indicate the propriety of taking the vineyard from these 
faithless husbandmen and letting it to others. There is high 
authority for such a procedure. And 1 see no right to be 
invaded by it, unless the long and uninterrupted possession 
of wrong makes it a right. I see little else that Parliament 
can do, unless it is to put education on a moi-e liberal basis, 
making it include more than mere intellectual knowledge — 
practical science, the arts of good husbandry, by normal 
schools of agriculture, manufactures, and commerce. 

20* 



234 MORAL AND SOCIAL USMEDIE3 NEEDED. 

Nobody can travel in this country without deploring the 
ignorance which prevails upon the commonest arts of life, 
even the means of domestic cleanliness, health and comfort. 
I should add, in this place, that the odious and onerous tithe 
tax, for the support of a religion not believed, and the plac- 
ing of all religions upon an equal basis, would greatly facili- 
tate the reformation and improvement of the people, by re- 
moving one of the causes which arouse the strongest pas- 
sions of their hearts, appealing to their religious, prejudices 
and making them enemies to religious men and measures 
which should direct them in a course of real progress. 

But deeper than Parliamentary proceedings, which can 
only aid, a new and moral principle must be brought into 
action. It is difficult to say how this can be done, or 
whether it ever will be ; but one thing is certain, if it is not, 
anarchy and final extinction must overtake this race. The 
people can not well begin the work alone, nor can the no- 
bility or gentry. It must be mM^MrtZ. A spirit of individual 
philanthropy must start it, and good men, both high and 
low, rich and poor, must be willing to profit by it. The 
people must be instructed — some body must instruct them 
— and landlords must become benefactors instead of oppres- 
sors. They must become Christians, and be willing to 
serve and be served, spend and be spent. And vice versa, 
the cottiers must be willing to help and be helped. They 
must not, as now, seek revenge of the landlords, and exe- 
crate and abuse their agents, by waylaying them and shoot- 
ing them in a dastardly manner, and thus send a murderous 
report abroad against the whole country. Nor must they 
refuse to adopt improvements necessary to make their lands 
more productive, for fear the landlords will raise upon their 
rents. They n);ist be willing to join in any measure 
which will improve their condition and brighten their pros- 
pects for the future. 

There is no where such a field for christian philanthropy 
as in Ireland. Talk about converting the heathen, who 
speak in other languages, and worship other gods. Good 



SITUATION OP LIMERICK. 235 

and glorious as that work is, it does not compare with the 
opportunity of rescuing the starved, the oppressed, ignorant 
and dying milHons of Erin. And how these noblemen can 
reconcile it with their consciences to live in splendor, and 
give freely for Christian and benevolent objects from the 
exorbitant rents extorted from this wretched population, is 
more than I can comprehend. It seems to me as if the 
ghosts of their famished tenants would haunt their nightly 
slumbers, stand in the way of all their revels, and whisper 
sad moanings of their neglect and injustice in their ears, 
as they kneel at the altar of religion ! 



CHAPTER VIII. 

LIMERICK. 

Situation of Limerick. — A Porter. — Railway Station. — Scenes of Sin and 
Misery. — The Market. — Handsome Women. — Artillery Barracks. — Op- 
pression. — A Wedding. — A Catholic Chapel. — Theory and Practice. — 
" Spitting." — The Cathedral. — Bishop's Court. — Monuments. — A Fine 
Landscape. — The Citadel. — History. — Interview with the Prioress of a 
Nunnery. — National Schools, their Changes and Present Condition. — Read- 
ing Room. — Newspapers. — Limerick-Stone. — Gentry. — Beggars. 

APPROACHING THE CITY. 

For several miles along the shores of the river, before 
reaching Limerick, the land is level, and the hills recede to 
a considerable distance. Close on the banks the ground is 
low, a portion of it having been recovered from the domain 
of the water, by artificial dikes, which preserve it from be- 
ing overflowed by high tides and unusual freshets. These 
alluvial bottoms are rich, and very productive. Back of 
these, a broad, undulating plain stretches off in all direc- 
tions, botmded by distant hills on the east, south, and north- 
west, leaving the beautiful valley on the north and west, 



236 SIGNS OF PROSPERITY, 

through which winds the majestic Shannon, the noblest 
river in the United Kingdonn. In the centre of this vale, 
and directly on a bend in the river where it suddenly 
spreads into the estuary, called the Lower Shannon, is 
situated the city of Limerick. Several villages, private 
seats and villas, with old ruined castles towering up, here 
and there, from isolated rocks or projecting spurs of a range 
of hills, add much to the grandeur and beauty of this lovely 
region. 

The city itself, as we approached it last evening, made a 
far more imposing appearance than I had expected to see 
in this part of Ireland. The size and beautiful situation of 
the city, the character of its buildings, the large quantity 
of vessels lying along its well built stone quays, as well as 
the business-like stir and bustle, and apparent good taste 
every where displayed, greatly surprised and pleased me. 
Nor was I disappointed on entering the town. Every 
thing I saw, confirmed my first favorable impressions. 
The width and regularity of the streets, some of them 
more than a mile long, the elegance of the houses, the ap- 
pearances of the well-filled stores and well-dressed inhabi- 
tants, were so unlike any thing I had anticipated, that I 
could hardly realize that we were in the chief city of the 
west of Ireland. Every thing bore the marks of wealth, 
prosperity, and refinement, equal, if not superior, to what is 
common in our country. And what surprised me more, 
every thing appeared fresh and modern. The houses, 
churches, stores, and shops, looked as if recently erected, 
and with a full knowledge of all the improvements in the 
present system of utilitarian architecture. 

My happiness on beholding these proofs of prosperity, 
taste, and comfort, was inexpressible. I felt relieved from 
the sadness forced upon me by an intercourse with the 
misery and degradation I had just passed through ; and, 
like too many, almost forgot that there was any real po- 
verty in the country, and wondered whether the scenes I 
have faintly described were not dreams, mere figments of a 



DEMAND. 237 

sickly and suspicious philanthropy. All about me seemed 
to be cheerfulness, activity, pleasure, and contentment, 
which, I must confess, harmonized much better with my 
natural feelings, and afforded me great relief 

The wharf was lined with car-men, hack-men, hotel- 
runners, and ragged, dirty boys, much in the fashion of our 
cities. As we had no need of either, we hurried from the 
pier as soon as possible, budget in hand. A crowd of boys 
followed us, teasing us to grant them the privilege of car- 
rying our sacks, bidding one upon the other, from a shilling 
to a ha'- penny. At length, one poor fellow looked so wo- 
begone, and begged so pitifully, that we agreed with him 
for a penny. On arriving at the hotel, he demanded, in the 
fashion of his country, two-pence, just four times his offer, 
and double the amount agreed on. We had resolved to 
give him three-pence, if he said nothing. But these poor 
fellows are so unused to anything like voluntary generosity, 
that they never wait to see the proof of it. 

As much as I abhor this trait of character every where 
displayed, I do not marvel at its existence. It is conse- 
quent upon the system of social life. A sort of grab- law 
prevails, which allows every one to get what he can — ex- 
cept it be by actual robbery — from the Lord-Lieutenant 
down to the boy that carried our sacks. And it generally 
appears in the form of a demand — a direct tax, levied with- 
out an equivalent, which is the pride of Yankee traffic. 
A tax is put upon place, as at turnpike gates, where he 
who rides alone in a chaise must pay double the toll of him 
who drives a loaded team ; not because he wears the road 
more, but is better dressed. In fact, this is the "common 
law" of all monopolies, and the whole political, social, and 
religious arrangement of Great Britain is little else than a 
grand scheme of monopoly, from the Queen down to the 
renter of a single rood of con-acre. The waiter, cham- 
bermaid and boots expect to be paid, whether they have 
seen you or not, and the diiver of the car or coach, after 
receiving the full sum agreed on, will tip his hat and ask for 



238 ELEGANCE AND ECONOMY. 

" something" — in payment for his place and privilege. 
The whole system is an abominable annoyance to travelers. 
May the good sense of Americans prevent the introduc- 
tion of such an absurdity into our country. 

After securing quarters, we strolled about the town ; 
passed a friary, and a national school-house, both respecta- 
ble looking buildings, and went to the Dublin railway sta- 
tion, a large and elegant building, built in a deep cavity ex- 
cavated in a hill. The contrast between the outlay of la- 
bor on all the public works of this country and ours, is very 
marked. Every thing here is done, seemingly, with refer- 
ence to durability, and without much respect to present 
expense or profit. With us it is the reverse. We flatten 
every sixpence, to make it cover as much we can, and 
stretch every wire to make it reach as far as possible. 
Ours is the evidence of ambitious enterprise, of youthful 
vigor, and, sometimes, indiscretion — with small means, de- 
termined to make the most of it. Theirs is cool calcula- 
tion, and mature judgment, irrespective of the gold and 
sweat which are to be wasted upon it. And, I must con- 
fess, that in the bridges, station-houses, quays, barracks, 
poor-houses, in fact, in every thing that is modern, there is 
a fair show of good taste and liberal outlay, mixed with 
abundant means and prudent judgment. In our country 
we have yet to acquire these attributes, in part. We may 
have the taste, but either lack the means or judgment ; or 
else our calculating prudence — -fo7--the present system — 
tells us that it would be bad economy, and a needless 
waste, to look to elegance and durability at the same time; 
that it is better to invest the surplus in some more produc- 
tive stocks. 

Extravagance is always to be avoided. Good taste re- 
quires it. But it is poor economy to make a thing so frail 
that it will not endure a year without repairing. And 
then, no one should be so utilitarian as to reprobate the 
comforts and decencies of life. Real elegance is in simpli- 
city ; and good taste never violates sound judgment. Our 



SCENES OF DESTITUTION. 239 

Steamboats, for instance, are elegant, extravagant, foolishly 
SO, in their fittings. The British are mean, inconvenient, 
and generally dirty. Our station-houses are ugly, mis- 
shapen, unsuitable things, and our bridges and wharves ten- 
penny structures. These are solid, durable, elegant. There 
are lessons for both to learn. 

All that part of the town, called Newtown-Perry — from 
the name of the owner of the land on which the new town 
is built — is very fine, neat, regular, airy, and elegant ; and 
our astonishment and admiration increased as we went 
over it. But the day did not close without proofs of desti- 
tution and misery, which awakened all my sadness, and 
gave full conviction that we were still in Ireland ! 

We visited the old part of the city, and all along the 
main street leading through the "Irish to the English town," 
saw such sights of poverty and shameless degradation as 
w^e never saw before. There is no spot in our cities to 
compare with it. The Five Points, so graphically de- 
scribed by Mr. Dickens, who saw every thing through the 
most English eyes, does not afford the basis of a compari- 
son ; for that is filled up with the better class who have 
emigrated from Saint Giles, Saint Mary's Gate, and the 
streets we are now describing. The more wretched could 
not go. 

All along the street, centre and sides, were grouped 
masses of human beings, of both sexes and all ages, who 
exhibited the lowest depths of poverty, intemperance and 
vice. The gin, beer, junk, and slop-shops were in charac- 
ter with all the rest, in the style of Orange-street, though 
on a much larger scale. Smutty childhood, wrinkled age, 
hobbling decrepitude, gaunt distress, bloated drunkenness, 
shameless vice, barefaced crime — all the odiousness of ig- 
norance, depravity and famine were mingled in a confused 
mass, the most loathsome and forbidding. 

Crossing the bridge into the " English Town," the hue 
became, if possible, still darker, as the evidences of moral 
depravity thickened on all sides. This added to the pic- 



240 MULTITUDES GENERATE VICE, 

ture colorings of disgrace and wretchedness which trans- 
cend all attempts at description — nnost appalling and re- 
pulsive exhibitions of vice, in which soldiers from the bar- 
racks acted prominent parts. The principal business 
seemed to be vending old clothes. These, in every con- 
ceivable variety, from the laid-ofi' coat of the nobleman, and 
the dress of his "lady," down to those stripped from the 
corse of a beggar, or picked from the gutter, were displayed 
along the sides of the street. 

Crossing another bridge, we passed one of the military 
stations, when still stronger marks of vice and infamy were 
to be seen. Under the best regulations, a large share of ini- 
quity clusters about such large establishments. But here 
it seemed to revel without restraint. From this place 
flows the blighting influence which leaves such palpable 
traces of crime and moral pollution upon both men and 
women, young in years, but, it is feared, already old in vice 
and deep in d^ravity. Who ever searched minutely, the 
full history of large bodies of men, closely packed in bar- 
racks or monastery, without finding traces of depravity 
which have festered into the rottenest crimes ; sometimes 
kept secret for a time, but afterward divulged ? The Re- 
formation corrected, in a measure the abuses of one, the 
prevalence of peace will remove the other. 

We were satisfied to return to our inn, at an early hour, 
having looked upon scenes of beauty and wretchedness, de- 
pravity and shame, mingled in such confusion as we had 
never supposed possible. The events of yesterday I shall 
not soon forget. They form a chapter — nay a book of 
many chapters — in the history of my experience, never to 
be forgotten. The scenes of whole years have been 
crowded into a single day, and more phases of social life pre- 
sented, than could be witnessed at home, by traveling from 
one end of our country to the other. The old and the new, 
the beautiful and the strange, from the days feudalism first 
reared these castle walls, to this hour, when wealth, sus- 
tained by a royal retinue ol lords and armies, tramps with 



1 



A MORNING STROLL. 241 

iron hoof upon the necks and vhiue of this unfortunate 
people, are all confusedly huddled together ; and I feel my 
spirit and my flesh completely exhausted. May the good 
Lord give faith and patience to endure one night of peace 
and quiet sleep. 



A DAY AT LIMERICK. 

May 23. — The only disturbance which troubled us during 
the night was the doleful cry of the watchmen, who passed 
our window every hour, drawling out the time of the night 
and "all's well," in a deep guttural tone, as if they had been 
released from the grave after a thousand j ears' confinement, 
and expected soon to return to it. After the outbreak, a 
few nights ago, when Messrs. O'Brien, Mitchel, and Meag- 
her were driven from public meeting, and having seen 
multitudes during the evening, in various parts of the city, 
engaged in warm discussions upon political questions which 
now so much agitate this country, and knowing that many 
apprehended another emute of the citizens, we were easily 
disturbed ; but nothing troubled us but the horrid cries of 
the night-watch. 

We rose a.t four — the sun having preceded us by half an 
hour- — and took a ramble about the still and quiet streets. 
Few were astir at that hour. Here and there, a solitary 
footman passed us, and occasionally a despondent ass, laden 
with a few vegetables, or boxes stowed into panniers laid 
across his back, and driven by a young woman with bare 
feet, dingy, and often ragged dress, and naked head, or co- 
vered by a white cambric cap, with a wide flowing ruffle 
about the face — appearing alike uncared for, and fit com- 
panions in misfortune and doom of servitude Their tramp 
along the clean and solitary streets at that beautiful hour, 
seemed lonely and sad, and contrasted strangely with the 
cheerfulness and grandeur of that calm and sweet morning. 

Soon the baker with his baskets of bread, the servant with 
her pail for water, the newsman with his bundle of papers, 

21 



242 THE MARKET. ^^ 

tripped more rapidly along the streets. By-and-by, a grog- 
gery was opened, and then a grocery, and, by six o'clock, 
there were signs of returrning life in all the business parts of 
the town. 

We visited the market places, which were first open. The 
only meat we saw displayed in the stalls was mutton, much 
of which appeared to be of an excellent quality. Butter, in 
large quantity, and of the very nicest kind, was all along 
the street, done up in neat rolls and handsomely stamped, f 
There was also fish of various kinds, piles of boiled shrimps, ' 
early vegetables, mainly cabbage and cauliflower, bread, 
cheese, and articles common in our markets. The prices 
were not high — generally lower than in New York. Gro- 
ceries are much dearer, especially tea, coffee, and sugar. 
Good coffee is from 30 to 40 cents a pound, and most duti- 
able articles are from three to four times as high as with 
us. The turf-sellers attracted our notice. Some were 
standing by asses loaded with the article, others had baskets 
which they had brought on their backs many miles, and 
were willing to deliver in any part of the city. These 
were the most deplorably miserable and dejected of any 
except the beggars which met us at every step, and followed 
us in droves, wherever we went, even into the hall of our 
hotel, and remained about the door, after being ordered out 
by our host, to waylay us when we came into the street 
again. 

Many about the market were quite respectable in their 
appearance. I noticed several persons, well formed, tall, 
handsome, and genteel in their manners. I was surprised 
to see several women who could be called really beautiful, 
even dressed as they were. Every body knows that dress 
may be so tastefully selected and delicately arranged as to 
add much to nature's charms, and help set off beauty in its 
most favorable aspects. But among these rude peasant girls 
who had come many miles to market, with the commonest 
products they had themselves reared, there were specimens 
of female beauty, I had not expected to find in any class in 



PERSONAL BEAUTY. 243 

Ireland. At home we are in the habit of speaking of the 
Irish as exceedingly plain and often ugly in their appearance, 
and many of them are ; but I never heard of beauty being 
sought for among them. It is a mistake, and I am happy 
in the disappointment ; for there is something in the per- 
sonal appearance of the inhabitants of any country which 
aftects one's feelings, and adds to or detracts from his plea- 
sure while sojourning among them. 

Ireland has been slandered for the ugliness of its inhabit- 
ants. There are differences in different parts of the king- 
dom, and ugliness enough, no doubt every where ; for there 
are distinct races who maintain much of their primitive 
characteristics, which distinguishes them from those in 
other parts of the island. Those among whom we have been 
traveling, especially about Kiliarney, at Kinsale. Macroom, 
and Tarbert are shorter and smaller, and not so pretty in 
their forms and features as they are here. We saw many 
tall, and well formed figures, and handsome countenances in 
Cork and Tralee, owing no doubt, to the mingling of diffe- 
rent races which have settled at different times in those 
business towns. 

The same cause has conspired, unquestionably, to produce 
a similar effect in this city and the country about it ; for, if 
I remember rightly, this was long ago, one of the great cen- 
tral spots in the conflicts of civil and foreign wars. The 
Danes and Normans came here and established themselves, 
far back in the history of the nation ; and Cromwell dis- 
banded his army in this neighborhood, and settled his offi- 
cers and soldiers upon the lands from which he had driven 
the original inhabitants. The Scotch also circulated freely 
among this people, and many settled here. This was the 
seat of the 0"Brians, the former kings of Munster. Being 
close upon the borders of the other provinces, and an im- 
portant commercial town, the population naturally became 
greatly mixed, and hence, according to physiological laws, 
the improvement in the physical appearance of the people 
is to be accounted for. 



244 THE ARTILLERY BARRACKS. 

By seven all the shops were open, and the streets were 
full of bustle and business. Every thing in the main streets 
of the new town wore the appearance of thrift and pros- 
perity. The stores are numerous, large, handsome, and 
well furnished, betokening an extensive and profitable busi- 
ness. The streets are wide, straight, neat, and airy, and in- 
tersected at right angles. Those nearest the river are oc- 
cupied by large buildings used as stores below, and dwell- 
ings above. The land ascends gently from the river, and 
in the upper part of the town, especially along the Crescent, 
the dwellings are very large and elegant, the streets being 
ornamented with shade trees, and the yards filled with vines, 
flowers, and shrubbery, much in the character of the best 
streets in American cities. 

We visited this morning, one of the barracks, occupying 
a large fort on the high ground in the eastern part of the 
city. We bolted in unasked, and looked at the comfortable 
quarters of the soldiers. English statesmen are wise in one 
thing, keeping strong the right arm of their power. The 
soldiers are well fed, and well paid, and have an easy 
time of it. None of the common people fare half so well. 
They are a sort of indigent nobility, furnished with red 
coats, glazed caps, and good rations at the public charge, 
and required to exercise barely enough to digest their food. 
And the ranks of an army are well suited to the hereditary 
gradations so indispensible in the working of British insti- 
tutions. There is no motive for a soldier to desert, unless 
in a foreign land ; it would be folly to forsake his beef, and 
bread, and whiskey, which come to him with perfect regu- 
larity, and at no cost, to seek a precarious livelihood on a 
patch of ground he might hire at an enormous rent, but 
could never own. His instinct makes him loyal, and natural 
rights and political and social wrongs do not trouble him. 
It is food and raiment, and a place to sleep, that concerns 
him most, and so he becomes mechanically valorous, when 
occasion requires. 

Some three or four thousand of these minions of power, 



IRISH PATRIOTISM. 245 

are now stored in the four barracks in this city, and tliirty 
thousand rriore in different parts of the kingdom. Fresh 
troops are constantly arriving from England and Scotland. 
The agitation produced by O'Brien, M. P. Mitchell, and 
Meagher, the two former of whom are said to have used 
strongly seditious language in this city, a few evenings ago, 
is the cause of all this stir in military matters. I am told 
the officers are in pursuit of these men, and no doubt before 
this they are in " durance vile." 

I got into conversation with an under officer, and learned 
something of his feelings about the commotions which now 
agitate the country. I found him loyal, in every particular, 
though he admitted the wrongs of government, and the 
miseries of his countrymen. I asked him if the govern- 
ment was willing to trust him to fight his own friends in 
case of an outbreak. He said he was not amongst his 
friends ; he came from the north, and should certainly obey 
orders. He further told me that companies from the west 
and south had been genei'ally sent out of the country, to 
England, Canada, or other places, while their places had 
been filled from England, Scotland, and the north. He did 
not think there would be any serious outbreak, but the 
soldiers were fully prepared to quell any rebellion that might 
be undertaken. I expressed to him no opinion, and it was 
evident he took me for an Englishman. 

Two or three squads were going through a course of 
artillery drill. They were tall, noble looking fellows ; and 
as they strutted through the evolutions around their brass 
pieces, pretending to put in cartridges and ram them down, 
prime, elevate, take aim, fire oflT, and swob out, all at the 
direction of little slim lads, in cloth caps, who swaggered 
about, flourishing rattan canes, like Broadway dandies, a 
feeling of pity and disgust was awakened, to think that the 
best energies of these " noble" young men were to be prosti- 
tuted to the base purpose of learning how to kill their fellow- 
men scientifically — by rule and by " law and order," and 
subject to the command of her Royal Majesty, the Head of 

21* 



246 UNCHRISTIAN TREATMENT. 

the Church ! Shame and confusion ! What arrogant folly ! 
What bloody madness ! Oh Heavens ! Is justice lost ? Is 
mercy dumb ? Then, " Rule Brittania" and tramp on 
with thy aristocratic hoofs, still more ruthlessly, and crush 
what life is left in this wretched people ! Drive on thy cart 
loads of tax and tithe gatherers, and arm thy constabulary 
to protect agents of absentees in distraining for rent or 
evicting tenants from desirable lands, turning them house- 
less and pennyless upon the world, and then train their mili- 
tary to shoot them down if they dare to make a show of 
resistance, or a particle of self-respect by way of objection. 
They have no remedy at law. Physical resistance is their 
only resource. And such a demonstration they must not 
make ! 

Is this christian ? Is there aught of the spirit of the re- 
ligion professed by the government, in all this method of op- 
pression. Should not the strong be merciful, the wise gene- 
rous, and the christian forgiving ! And yet what has Eng- 
land done to elevate and improve the condition of the com- 
mon people of Ireland. Every Englishman, and loyal Irish- 
man, especially if a landlord, is for ever harping upon the 
ignorance, bigotry, laziness, filth, and wickedness of the 
Irish, and, heaven knows, not without a cause, for there is 
enough of all these. But is it the way to cure an evil, to 
be constantly finding fault, while nothing is done to remove 
the cause — to take off the yoke which has so galled their 
necks for ten centuries ? Is the remedy to be found in the 
infliction of greater oppressions, or by adding insult to injury? 
It seems to me as if the principles of humanity, as recom- 
mended in the gospels, are never thought of in connexion 
with the government of Ireland. That it is by a mere dis- 
play of pride and power, that respect and obedience are 
looked for — methods which the veriest heathen tyrant would 
have adopted in the government of a conquered province, 
which he wished to depopulate, to make room for more loyal 
subjects. 

The ignorance and wickedness of this country does not 



EVILS OF NEGLECT. 247 

justify the treatment it receives. One wrong does not jus- 
tify another ; and until England learns to be just and gene- 
rous towards the masses of her citizens, regarding them in 
the light of common justice and humanity, instead of be- 
stowing all her care and favors upon her nobility and gen- 
try, no real improvement can be reasonably expected. If 
her statesmen would act the part of guardians and protec- 
tors, and devote her powers to educate the people, by giv- 
ing them practical knowledge in the arts of civilization, 
and then afford them a chance to do for themselves, instead 
of keeping them the serfs of absentee landlords, to be 
abused and cheated to the last inch by merciless agents, 
and trafficking middle-men, and then taxing them to the 
last farthing to support lordly priests, whose doctrines they 
disbelieve, and armies of policemen and soldiers to help 
keep them in the traces, they might look with confidence 
for improvement, for the peace and happiness of Ire- 
land. As it is, the darkness thickens in her skies, corrup- 
tion festers at her heart, poverty and crime mark her ca- 
reer, and distraction and ruin are in reserve for her future. 
Not a ray of hope or comfort gleams from any point of 
heaven, upon the masses of her sons and daughters. Op- 
pression, starvation, or emigration are inscribed every 
where — on every hill and valley, in every town, village, and 
hamlet. Peace, justice, and competence are no where to 
be found. 

To the courageous, of small means, there are glimmer- 
ings of light, wafted in the arrival of each emigrant ship 
from the distant shores of a foreign land ; and they breathe 
more freely, and their pulses beat quicker, a smile even kin- 
dles upon their pale lips, when the thought strikes them that 
there is a chance for them io forsake their native land, the 
homes and graves of their ancestors, and seek an asylum 
among strangers. But to the timorous, without means, 
there is nothing left but cold, blank despair, rendered more 
apparent by the glistening of the oppressor's powei', which 
glimmers about the bristling bayonets of these trained 



248 A WEDDING, 

bands of death and destruction, sent here to overawe the 
masses, and protect the exclusive privileges of the favored 
few ! 

No country can really prosper, whose inhabitants are so 
treated that they learn to hate their homes, and to despise 
the authorities. Kings and noblemen may prate about 
" divine rights" as much as they will, but unless they have 
the hearts of the people on their side, they will have prac- 
tical illustrations of the truth and meaning of the words 
" Vox populi, vox Dei ;" for, sooner or later, God, whose love 
is impartial, and whose justice fails not, will give freedom 
and peace to His people. 

From the artillery barracks, we wandered through the 
public square, and seeing many people gathering about 
a church near by, we went in. A woman who was serv- 
ing as sexton, informed us there was to be a wedding, and 
invited us to walk in. We did so, and took our seats in 
the front of the gallery, but as it was some time before the 
parties arrived, we went below, and looked about the 
building. The pews are furnished with locks, and many 
of them were fastened to keep out the unbelievers. A 
tombstone is inserted in the wall, on the left of the pulpit, 
at the height of ten or twelve feet from the floor. Its let- 
tering indicates that it is in memory of a Mrs. Russel, wife 
of one of the richest men in Limerick, we learned after- 
wards, made so by the distilling of whiskey, the monopoly 
of grain, and the fattening of hogs ! The building itself is 
neat and respectable, of recent erection and in modern 
style. 

A large number of people were gathered about the door, 
mere idlers, who came from curiosity, whom the lady sex- 
ton refused to admit. But one or two hundred, who were very 
respectably dressed, came in and seated themselves about 
the church. Their appearance fully justified my favorable 
opinion of the personal beauty of the inhabitants, espe- 
cially the women, of Limerick. There was scarcely an 
ordinary looking person amongst them. Many were really 



A CATHOLIC CHAPEL. 249 

handsome. Even among those standing about the door- 
way, there were many boys and girls, plainly dressed, and 
some ragged, whose countenances were actually beautiful. 
They needed only a little soap and water to bring out the 
lustre of rosy cheeks, and delicate and well-formed fea- 
tures. 

Soon carriages began to arrive, with lackeys in livery, 
and the " parties of the first part," as the lawyer would 
say, appeared and retired to a small, open room on 
the left of the entrance. Soon after, the "parties of the 
second part" were ushered in, and a formal presentation 
made, when the whole retinue entered the body of the 
church, and arranged themseh^es before the altar. The 
priest, in full canonicals, with book in hand, proceeded to 
read the marriage service, and, with all due formality, pro- 
claimed the twain to be one, till death them should part. 
Then the salutations and greetings followed, which over, 
the happy pair were conducted to their carriage and de- 
parted, hut not as they came. The beggars next claimed 
our notice, for they flocked about in abundance ; but I saw 
nothing given them, except sour looks and harsh words. 
We were told this was a wedding in high life, the friends of 
the parties being among the most distinguished people of 
the town; and that, therefore, the poor beggars had hoped 
that a few pennies would have been scattered amongst 
them. They seemed to bear their disappointment bravely, 
as if used to it, for where so many are, who can give to all ? 
A man must have a long purse or a hard heart to live long 
in Ireland. 

On our way from the wedding, we passed a Catholic 
chapel, which was open. We entered. It was a large 
building, rather dingy, inside and out. Two women and 
an old man were kneeling on the cold stone floor, not far 
from the door, with their faces towards the high altar, in 
the farther end. Their pale, wan faces, wrinkled skin, and 
tattered garments, told a tale of misery, from which they 
were seeking relief in the offices of penance they were 



250 FAITH AND WORKS. 

now undergoing. The women were not old, but they 
looked the pictures of wretchedness. Each was muttering 
prayers, and counting a string of old, worn beads, which 
hung about the neck, with the most apparent fervor and 
sincerity. They did not seem to notice us as we entered 
and passed them. After looking at a few pictures and sta- 
tues about the church, we returned, to go out. The 
women broke short off, and oame to us, holding out their 
thin hands. One said, " Plase, sir, give me a ha -penny, an' 
may the Lord bliss ye, and give ye lang life." The other 
said, "Give me a ha'-penny, an' I'll pray that the great 
God'll bliss ye, yer honors, an' kape yer shouls from pur- 
gatory, an' carry ye safe, an' kape ye, an' ye'll give me a 
ha'-penny." They went from one to the other, bartering 
their prayers for our ha'-pennies, and promising to inter- 
cede v/ith the blessed Virgin in our behalf The old man 
did not rise from his knees, but reached out his old hat 
with one hand, while he held the beads in the other. A 
more perfect figure of patient destitution I never saw, not 
even the poor creatures under the boards at Tralee. 

As we left that church, I queried whether the doctrines 
and precepts of Christianity are well understood ; whether 
the errors and mistakes of past ages have not left shadows 
upon it, which dim its brightest beauties, and keep the 
world from enjoying its blessings. Sincerity, humility, 
faith in doctrines, submission to forms as a means, are valu- 
able, it may be essential, qualities, but are there not active 
virt-ues which are equally so ? Should not the people be 
taught to watch as well as pray ; to work as well as believe ; 
to do as well as know ? And does not he who labors with 
his hands to support himself comfortably, and to give to 
the needy, as truh' serve God as he who waits at the 
altar? It seems to me people, many of them, talk strangely 
and unadvisedly about this good and beautiful world, in 
which it has pleased our heavenly Father to place us for a 
time ; for ever decrying it, and speaking of its blessings and 
comforts with ingratitude and disrepect, and holding out" 



THEORY AND PRACTICE. 251 

the opinion, that to love God we must hate the world, and 
the glorious works he has displayed in it ; that religion re- 
quires pain and sadness, and the denial of all real temporal 
comfort to those who would become eminent in piety, and 
have a sure hope of the life to come ; that a perpetual war- 
fare is to be kept up with one's self, refusing all the sources 
of present and prospective happiness, and laboring to be 
satisfied with the worst possible condition to which hu- 
manity can be reduced. 

The practical of these doctrines is found in the degraded 
condition of mendicant friars, and severe devotees to all 
religious infatuations, who submit cheerfully to the most 
painful and degrading penances which a haughty, ambi- 
tious, and unfeeling priesthood are pleased to inflict. The 
evil is not so much in the fact that these views have not 
been well carried out, for then they would have corrected 
themselves ; but in that they are yet preached, even by 
pleasure- seeking bishops, and ease-taking prelates, whose 
sporting habits, fat " livings," elegant mansions, good din- 
ners, and fine wines, present a strange illustration to the 
theories they advocate, and thus bring religion into dis- 
repute. 

Could the practical doctrines and precepts of Christianity 
be brought before the people, and their perfect and beauti- 
ful adaptedness to all the affairs and conditions of men be 
shown, a most favorable result might be expected. Could 
this Irish people, now so miserable and degraded, or so ex- 
alted above the affections, duties, and responsibilities which 
belong to a true Christian, be made to understand and feel 
the spirit and power of Christian truth, whi/ih owns one 
God and Fathei*, who is over all, and one Lord Jesus Christ, 
who gave himself a ransom for all, and requires all men, 
every where, to repent, to lead quiet and peaceable lives, 
to be not idle, busy-bodies, but to be inc'ustrious, frugal, 
tender-hearted, merciful, just, forgiving, forbearing ; to 
avoid oppression, injustice, and cruelty ; striving to make 
this earth a paradise of peace and plenty, remembering that 



252 PUACTICAL DOCTRINES NEEDED. 

Christ came to establish His kingdom "in the earth," 
amongst men ; that with Him the distinctions of nation, 
race, birth, and position are nothing ; that each and all are 
held directly and personally to account before God for eve- 
ry act, and word, and thought ; that the poor, oppressed, 
and outcast have a friend and defender in Him, whose 
cause He will plead, and whose wrongs He will avenge ; 
that He abhors the forms and fashions of religion which 
disguise the truth, corrupt the heart, and deceive the 
world ; that he requires righteousness in the " inward 
parts," purity of soul, and a perfect life; — could these 
things be understood and felt, I venture to prophecy that 
these poor devotees would not be here, on this pleasant 
day, counting over their beads and muttering the Ave Ma- 
rias for the ten thousandth time ; nor those train-bands 
studying the science and art of human butchery — actual 
murder ; — nor those whole villages forsaken by the evicted 
tenants of some cruel landlord, who has compelled them to 
live in caves dug from damp turf beds, and beg, or starve 
to death. We should see right respected, industry en- 
couraged, innocence protected, and prosperity and happi- 
ness prevailing in all parts of the kingdom. The teachers 
of religion are under a fearful responsibility ! And who 
shall escape ? May the Lord give grace and mercy.* 
I should not fail to record one fact which had some sig- 

* I do not mean by what I have said, to disparage any form of doctrine, 
or mode of worship. Such is not my object, and this is not the place. But 
I could not forbear the utterance of these thoughts, which have borne heavily 
upon my mind, since I was in the country. I would by no means dis- 
courage those poor, comfortless, unfortunate beings from coming to the only 
sure fountain of help and hope — the religion of our Lord Jesus Christ. But 
I wanted to suggest that the mere forms and externals of religious worship 
are not enough : that the people must be taught how to live here, as well as 
how to prepare to live hereafter. I am reminded of rather a witty remark, 
of one of my own countrymen, who was once a slave, but is now distin- 
guished for his talents as a public advocate of abolitionism. Said he, •= We are 
told we must pray to God, and he will give us liberty. But I can tell you 
what, my friends, I might have prayed with my mouth till doom's day ; but 
if I had not prayed with my heels, I should still have been in slavery." This 
explains my meaning. 



SPITTERS. 253 

nificance, the more so to us in as much as it afforded an op- 
portunity to hurl back a missile sent at us by British tour- 
ists which might as well have been kept at home lor domes- 
tic use. A notice was posted in different parts of the 
church, " Please avoid spitting on the Jioor." I never 
saw such a notice at home, though I confess there is often 
need of it, not only in churches but every where else. But 
henceforth we shall have companions to share with us the 
disgrace of being a '•' nation of spitters." It is a miserable, 
filthy practice to chew or smoke tobacco ; but if chewers 
and smokers would keep their filth to themselves, and not 
invade the rights and comfort of others, with their habits, 
none would ever complain. I do not therefore mention this 
notice by way of excuse for my own countrymen, or as an 
apology for the nasty practice so justly complained of, but 
to remind our trans-atlantic brethren of their own sins, and 
the propriety of having a care for the " beam" as well as 
the "mote." 

Our next point was to St. Mary's church, formerly the 
Catholic cathedral, but now the high church of the Establish- 
ment, gained to the service of God, and the glorious reforma- 
tion, vi et armis, like innumerable other churches throughout 
the realm. We do not obtain churches in that way at home. 
I remember hearing an Englishman express his astonishment 
at the sale of churches in our country, from one sect to 
another, as though it was a very strange and sacrilegious 
procedure. He doubtless thought it better to gain them by 
conquest. It has been so here. The decrees of courts, en- 
forced by military power, has helped to rob the Catholics of 
all their ancient temples, and that too when the great masses 
of the people adhere to their original doctrine. As a re- 
publican I call this robbery. The majority should rule 
when rights are equal. The change of one's opinion should 
not jeopardize his liberty or his property. But England has 
yet to take some lessons in the doctrines of equal justice, 
and religious toleration. She has made great improvement 
of late, but there still is room for more. 

•22 



254 ST. MARY S CHURCH. 

It is difficult to make these people understand the work- 
ings of our free and voluntar)^ church system. They will 
not believe us when we tell them it is a very common thing 
in various parts of our country, for two or three sects to 
unite and build a church, own it and occupy it in common, 
the ministers of each sect taking part in the service of 
dedication. But really it seems to me there is quite as 
much of the spirit of our holy religion exhibited by such a 
procedure, as there is in the exclusiveness and robberies 
which have marked the past history of both Catholics and 
Episcopalians, or the government churches in Scotland, 
Germany, or any where else. One is a free and voluntary 
act in honor and support of religion ; the other a forced 
contribution to answer the demands of intriguing religio- 
politicians. Give us the free, the liberal, the tolerant, and 
we will trust the true and right. 

St. Mary's Church, to which we obtained admittance, on 
the payment of 2s., is a venerable, and majestic pile, erected 
in the 11th century. It is built somewhat in the Gothic 
style, though some of the arches are Norman. It is in the 
form of a cross. The choir and transept only are used 
for service. Stalls are erected on both sides of the choir, 
and ornamented with fantastic carvings. The altar itself, 
is a tasteful structure, viewed as a work of art. Numerous 
monuments to the honored dead, are arranged about the in- 
terior. Among them I noticed one of Bishop Jebb, which 
represents the venerable prelate much larger than life, sit- 
ting in an easy posture, attired in his robes of office, with a 
book open resting on his knees. The statue is in fine 
white marble, and richly finished. Near it, in a recess in 
the wall, is the tomb and sculptured monument of the 
O'Brien's, kings of Munster It is an elaborate work, bear- 
ing some inscriptions in Irish, and surmounted with the 
harp, sh-amrock, and the Arm.s of Munster. 

The seate in this vast building will not accommodate 
more tha i two or three hundred sitters. There are rows 
of stalls on each side of the choir, for the magrates, eccle- 



REFLECTIONS IN THE CATHEDRAL. 255 

siastical, civil, and military, facing each other. Before them 
are seats and desks, slisfhtlv elevated, for the readers, singersj 
and other officers. Then in the area between, directly in 
front of the altar, loose benches are arranged, as also in the 
transept, for the "common people," worshippers of the lower 
order. About the galleries are arranged pews, for the use of 
the families of the nobility. The whole plan and arrange- 
ment of the building is indicative of the various grades re- 
cognized among the men of this world. It is not copied 
after the "pattern set in the heavens." And hence the 
thought stole into my mind, that worldly pride has a little 
too much to do in the church of God. I can not say it was 
well founded, but I confess these stalls reminded me of " Mo- 
ses' Seat" and one or two parables of the Master. It might 
have been wrong, but I could not help it. If it was wrong, 
I have confessed, and hope to be forgiven. 

The well-worn pavement, the gray crevices of the im- 
mense arches, the stained windows, and lofty columns, all 
attested the antiquity of this edifice ; send I felt strangely 
as I gazed upon it. I stood where kings, princes, and noble- 
men, rich and poor, worshipped eight hunydred years ago. 
Here moulder the bones of monarchs long dead, some slain 
in battle. Here have resounded the acclamations of praise 
and thankfulness for friends returned victorious, and here 
have wept the hearts of the vanquished ! Strange and in- 
definable thoughts came through my mind, as I lingered 
about that old cathedral, and caught glimpses of the dark 
centuries that are past, and some of the stirring events 
here chronicled. Sad thoughts they were, for, in the so- 
lemn stillness and pompous grandeur here displayed, I 
could not forget the living world without. The tears and 
sighs of beggared millions, the clanking chains of oppres- 
sion, galling the very hearts of a crushed people, and dri- 
ving them to madness, or to foreign lands, still rung in my 
soul, and I could not feel at peace — I could not admire the 
architectural splendor as I would under other circum- 
stances. I left the interior without regret. 



256 bishop's court. 

Near the main entrance of the nave, on the left, is the 
Bishop's court, arranged very much in the style of a com- 
mon court-room in our country, with a bench, witness- 
stand, and all the appurtenances for a regular trial at law. 
What the precise legal jurisdiction of the bishop is, how 
far he is restricted to spiritual matters, and what authority 
he has over secular sins, I am not able to say, definitely, 
having never familiarized myself with any other system 
of jurisprudence than may be found in the Old Book. 
That, especially the New Testament, has little to say on 
subjects of this kind, except that we should "judge not, 
lest we be judged," nor " entangle ourselves in the affairs 
of this world." The floor and benches were well worn, 
which led me to infer a large amount of business, of some 
sort, was done at this court. 

On the opposite side of the entrance is a room enclosed 
by an iron railing, in which is the tomb of the young Lord 
Glentworth. An elegant monument has been recently 
erected, which represents the young nobleman, as large as 
life, in full dress, lying upon a couch, with a pillow beneath 
his head, and the whole elevated about four feet above the 
floor. A linen cloth was spread over it, which the sexton 
removed, at our request. It is a fine specimen of art, and. 
what is more, is said to be in honor of a very worthy man. 
There are several other monuments in the same enclosure, 
and others inserted in the walls and floor of that part of 
the building. Some of the lettering is in old Irish charac- 
ters, but those in the floor are nearly effaced, having been 
trod upon for centuries. 

From this part we ascended to the top of one of the lofty 
towers, which commands a beautiful prospect of the whole 
city, and a wide extent of the surrounding country. North, 
the eye wanders to the hills about lake Derg. East and south, 
over a vast undulating })lain, bounded by the hills in Tippe- 
rary, and those which bound the valley of the Lower Shan- 
non, and west, down the broad estuaries of that river, to 
the range of rugged hills which skirt the shores of the 



EXTENSIVE AND BEAUTIFUL PROSPECT, 257 

sea. The scene is vast, varied, and beautiful. From lake 
Derg, the basin of which is distinctly seen, the line of the 
Shannon is traced, as it meanders through a lovely valley, 
with here and there a village, hamlet, elegant mansion, or 
dingy parapet of a forsaken castle, studding its green banks. 
Just above, it divides into two branches, and sweeps around 
the island, on which stands the English or old town, which 
includes the castle, the church, in the tower of which we 
are now seated, a convent, and, perhaps, a third of the 
city. Immediately below the town, the river widens and 
bends more westward, towards the sea. The site of the 
city is remarkably fine, at the head of tide-water, and navi- 
gation, except by canal and steamboats, which ascend the 
Upper Shannon from lake Derg, by the help of a few locks, 
as far as Shannon harbor and Athlone. The banks are 
elevated, so as to give a healthy and pretty appearance to 
the city. Shipping, strung along the elegant stone quays, 
the basin into which smaller vessels and canal boats 
are locked, lying between the English and the New town, 
the magnificent bridges spanning the main river below the 
junction, and one leading from King John's castle in the 
English town, close to which we now are, to Thomond- 
gate, on the Clare side, and two or three which cross the 
Abbey branch, which divides the English from the Irish 
town ; these, and the public buildings are all distinctly 
seen, embosomed in a rich and beautifully changing coun- 
try, and present a scene of varied beauty rarely to be met, 
I do not wonder that Irishmen boast so much of their 
Emerald Isle, It is, without dispute, so far as I have seen, 
endowed by nature with a profusion of beauties, and all 
the sources of abundance, comfort, and wealth, which the 
heart of man can desire, Stranse that such a charmino- 
spot of earth should be so disfigured and despoiled by the 
wickedness of man ! that oppression^ misery, and degrada- 
tion should find such a home to revel in ! But alas, weeds 
grow best in the richest soil ; and the mildew blights most 
the fairest flowers! Such are the antagonisms of the 

22* 



258 THE ENGLISH TOWN. 

world, which, here, have been struggling with the nmightiest 
forces for many centuries, till the wrong has well nigh tri- 
umphed, and left the true and good to wither into a misera- 
ble and disgraceful death. 

Near the cathedral is the old castle, or citadel, still occu- 
pied as an infantry barracks. It stands upon the most ele- 
vated point of the island, and commands the old city. 
Not far off is the " Bishop's Palace," and north of it, front- 
ed by a pretty lawn, is a convent, connected with which 
there is a public school. Having a desire to see how pub- 
lic education is conducted in this country, we applied at the 
entrance door for admission, but were referred to the Lady 
Superior. We rang at the gate, and a servant came across 
the lawn from the nunnery, to know our business. We 
sent w6rd that two gentlemen from America were desirous 
of visiting the school under her charge. After some delay 
an answer was returnedj that we might do so in half an 
hour. We spent thi« time in looking about the streets and 
lanes of that part of the city. 

This was the original town of Limerick. It occupies 
the south end of what is now called King's Island, an ele- 
vated plat, which descends gently, in all directions, to 
the river. It bears the marks of high antiquity, its 
histoiy going back to the fifth century. It was, at one 
time, in the possession of the Danes, and the architecture 
of this portion affords proof of the fact, for the Danish or 
Flemish style of building is often to be seen. After the ex- 
pulsion of the Danes, it became the royal residence of the 
Kings of Munster. The famous Brian Boroihme assembled 
his army here, with which he subdued Leinster, and con- 
quered Dublin, in 999. He lived here in great splendor, 
till 1014, when he led the combined armies of the several 
Irish kingdoms against the Danes, and won the great vic- 
tory of Clontarf, which, however, cost him his life. In the 
12th century, the English invaded Leinster at the request of 
Dermod Mac Murrough, who had refused submission to Ro- 
deric O'Conner, the King of Ireland, and, in the true policy of 



CITY CHANGES. 259 

that nation, demanded, as a recompense, the submission of 
the entire country to their authority. When has England 
listened to a call for aid without making booty of their 
bounty ? Having got possession of the East, the English 
forces, under Strongbow, Earl of Clare, caused the people 
to submit to English laws. But Limerick and the West 
held out till the commencement of the 13th century, when 
King John succeeded in subjecting it to his authority. 
Many Englishmen were imported, who took possession of 
this part of the town, and compelled the native inhabi- 
tants to settle on the other side of the narrow stream. 
Hence the names Enghsh-town and Irish-town. King 
John built a fort or castle which still stands at the end 
of the Thomond bridge, formerly the only entrance to the 
town. Some of the old walls are also to be seen. 

After the commencement of the New town, a little over 
half a century ago, with wide streets and handsome build- 
ings, this part has been forsaken by all the wealthy inhabit- 
ants, who have preferred the elegance and comfort of New- 
town Perry, to these narrow streets and crowded lanes. 
Little is to be seen here now but old rookeries, decaying from 
neglect, and a most squalid and immoral class of inhabit- 
ants. Some of the old public buildings remain in a dilapi- 
dated condition, but close beside them is collected filth, 
misery and vice which baffles description, showing how 
soon the fairest spots of earth may wither and decay, when 
touched by the polluted hand of sin, or forsaken by a moral, 
enterprising, and industrious population. The Irish town 
has suffered less by the change, for the New is joined imme- 
diately to it, and therefore it derives some advantage from 
the general improvement. 

The time appointed having arrived, we returned to the 
" National School," and, after a long delay, were invited to 
" walk up." On entering the ante-room, we were presented 
to the Prioress, who stood, like a statue of marble, in prince- 
ly dignity, attired in the i^obes of her order — a white flannel 
dress, tinged slightly yellow, fitted close about her neck and 



2G0 PRIORESS OF A CONVENT. 

waist, and flowing in liberal folds to the ground. A chain, 
with a cross suspended, was hung about her neck, and a 
white cap or turban, set gracefully on her head. She be- 
longed to the order of " The Sisters of Mercy." She was a 
tall, well proportioned, masculine figure. Her height must 
have exceeded six feet. Her features were smooth, and 
well formed, though pale and sad. She might be forty 
years old. She received us with a slow, graceful courtesy, 
and a very slight inclination of the body, and then resumed 
her former attitude of solemn, conscious dignity, in appear- 
ance, cold as the frigid marble. 

I confess I felt abashed, awe-struck, for I had not expected 
such courtly grace, and this was the first time I ever came 
in contact with any of its pretensions. . I had stood before 
the great men of our nation, presidents, governors, judges, 
bishops, priests, and school ma'am's, and all sorts of repub- 
lican magnates, but I never before stood before the superior 
of an Irish nunnery. Summing up what dignity I could 
command, I presented my right hand with Yankee honesty, 
as a token of fraternal regard. She accepted it, but with 
apparent reluctance, and did not return very warmly my 
friendly and cordial greeting. Perhaps she thought me rude, 
and my friend afterwards read me a homily on convent 
manners, which I had never heard of before. I was there 
an American, and I would not disgrace my nation by apeing 
foreign customs. I felt, as I acted, a true respect for my 
Irish brethren and sisters. This was one, at the head of a 
whole sisterhood of my father's daughters, and why should 
I not be sincere, frank, and cordial at meeting with her. 

Never mind, she did not resent my rudeness, but received 
us as friends. Her countenance did not brighten with a 
single glimmer of warm feeling, though she spoke the words 
of sincerity and gratitude. So completely withering has 
been the mental discipline over the exterior faculties, which 
link her to mortal and social life. She maintained an icy 
coldness during our whole stay ; except once, at one re- 
mark I made, I saw a faint smile play about her lips, like a 



A CLASc; OF SCHOLARS. 261 

moonbeam on the haze that surrounds an iceberg floating 
at sea. 

I introduced my friend, made known our object, and we 
entered, at once and freely, into conversation. She invited 
us into the school room. Five black and two white nuns 
were engaged in teaching, and over-looking the classes in 
different parts of the room. Not one of them appeared to 
notice our entrance, though I saw them steal glances at us, 
occasionally, but timorously, as though afraid of being ob- 
served. Two of them I noticed were young, and, except 
their paleness, of beautiful appearance. The Matron asked 
one of them to call up a class of girls for us to examine in the 
various branches of a common English education. They 
were misses, I should say from twelve to sixteen years old. 
We found them intelligent, and well advanced in practical 
arithmetic, geography, history, and grammar ; some of them 
were excellent readers, pronouncing distinctly, and in that 
clear, full rich, voice for which Irish orators are justly dis- 
tinguished. We were also shown specimens of their chiro- 
graphy, which were truly elegant. 

I have forgotten the exact number of scholars in the 
school, but should judge not less than two hundred and fifty, 
probably more. I remember the matron told me there were 
eighteen hundred in the several national schools which were 
under the care of nuns. They were generally comfortably 
dressed, though many looked poor. The sisters clothe the 
most destitute, and the civil authorities furnish plain food 
for their noon-day lunch, which is distributed in the school 
room. This we were assured is a strong inducement for 
many to attend school, who, but for it, would be left to grow 
up in ignorance and neglect, to swell the vast catalogue of 
miserable wretches, old and young, which swarm in this 
country, and live in poverty or die of starvation. 



NATIONAL SCHOOIiS. 

The " National Schools" are one of the main hopes of 



262 NATIONAL SCHOOLS 

Ireland, for which the English government deserves some 
praise, though it has failed to give them the importance and 
privileges they deserve. It has not adopted a thorough, 
comprehensive, efficient, and liberal system of education. 
It has been jealous and treated meanly, and grudgingly with 
this people. It is not long since all learning was confined 
to the Established church, for which large appropriations 
were made ; while upon a Roman Catholic teacher, as a 
school master or private tutor, the punishment of transpor- 
tation was inflicted. Who can wonder that, under such 
laws, enforced upon a nation bigoted in its religion, the peo- 
ple would prefer ignorance to apostacy, and nearly one half 
grow up unable to read and write. Add to this as a result, 
perhaps, that many priests have opposed the general and in- 
discriminate education of the people, for fear they would 
know too much to be controlled by their false claims. But 
the people generally have always been anxious to obtain an 
education, and many, in all ages, have been ripe scholars. 

It is not much over fifty years, since a Catholic was per- 
mitted to act in the capacity of a teacher, nor is it forty 
since he received any support from Parliament, while the 
Episcopal teacher was well paid. In 1811, a society was 
formed in Dublin, of both Protestant, and Catholics, called 
the " Kildare St. Society," to unite in a system of national 
education. The next year Parliament made liberal appro- 
priations to this society, and withdrew the exclusive aid be- 
fore given to the church teachers. This society was in 
character, much like the New York " Public School Socie- 
ty" — a private corporation entrusted with the expenditure 
of public money. It insisted upon the Holy Scriptures be- 
ing read in the schools — the Protestant version to Protest- 
ants, and the Catholic version to Catholics, but in both cases 
without note or comment. 

The schools prospered for a time very well, till the 
Catholic clergy took the alarm, and brought their whole in- 
fluence against a practice so dangerous as teaching the 
young to read the Bible ! They did not allow adults to 



AS NOW MANAGED. 263 

read, or to understand it for themselves, and how could they 
consent to have children deceived and corrupted by a know- 
ledge of its sacred pages ? Hence, in twenty years, few 
schools existed, except among the Protestant parts of the 
kingdom. The clergy had persuaded the people to abandon 
them, preferring ignorance to knowledge, unless stamped 
with the " traditions" of the church. It is said the Pope 
ordered this procedure, fearing, doubtless, his children would 
become too wise to submit to his dictation in matters of 
faith and practice ; as the Established church had before 
found, that with an equal education. Protestantism would 
be endangered with the superior ability and claims of the 
Roman Catholics. 

At length, in 1831, Lord Stanly procured the passage of 
a law which withdrew the grants from the Kildare Society, 
and constituted a board of education for the poor of Ire- 
land, including the Protestant and Roman Catholic arch- 
bishops of Dublin, and other distinguished men of all per- 
suasions. This board is entrusted with the outlay of public 
grants, in building school houses, paying teachers, furnishing 
books, and managing all the schools which receive aid from 
the government. Like the common schools in some of our 
States, no help is given to those who will not help them- 
selves. Each town, or neighborhood, district we would say, 
which will raise a certain amount, receives liberal grants 
from the board, in most cases equal to seventy per cent. 
Every four years sets of primary books are furnished gratui- 
tously, and others at half cost prices. A normal school has 
been established in Dublin, on the most approved and 
thorough plan of education under the direction of the board, 
where all teachers must be graduated. Model schools in 
each county are also established. 

The management of the schools is on the most liberal 
plan. Neither prayers nor the reading of the Bible, nor 
any attempt at proselytism is allowed, during the regular 
hours ; though the clergy of any sect may visit the schools 
and, out of school hours, teach what they choose. The fol- 



264 THE BIBLE IN SCHOOL. 

lowing excellent summary of christian duties, prepared by 
the Catholic archbishop of Dublin, I saw suspended in the 
school rooms we visited. 

" Christians should endeavor, as the Apostle Paul commands them, to 'live 
peaceably with all men,' even with those of a different religious persuasion. 
Our Saviour, Christ, commanded his disciples to ' love one another.' He 
taught them to love even their enemies, to bless those that cursed them, and to 
pray for those who persecute them. He himself prayed for his murderers. 
Many men hold erroneous doctrines, but we ought not to hate or persecute 
them. We ought to seek for the truth, and to hold fast what we are convinced 
is the truth ; but not to treat harshly those who are in error. Jesus Christ 
did not intend his religion to be forced on men by violent means. He would 
not allow his disciples to fight for him. If any persons treat us unkindly, we 
must not do the same to them ; for Chkist and his Apostles have taught us not 
to return evil for evil. If we would obey Christ, we must do to others, not as 
they do to us, but as we would wish them to do to us. Quarreling with our 
neighbors and abusing Ihem, is not the way to convince them that wc are in the 
right, and they in the wrong. It is more likely to convince them that we have 
not a Christian spirit. We ought to show ourselves followers of Christ, 
who, ' when he was reviled, reviled not again,' by behaving quietly and kindly 
to every one." 

A plan has been suggested to incorporate the historical 
parts of the Bible, together with the precepts and illustra- 
tions, in a book to be read in the schools, and the Board, I 
believe, have agreed, with perfect unanimity, to recom- 
mend such a work, but whether it has been executed, I am 
not able to say. It was understood that the reading of 
such scriptural lessons was to be left optional with the pa- 
rents in the different localities. Nobody certainly could 
object to such a course. In fact, every thing has been 
managed in good faiih by the Board, and the great body 
of the community have seconded their efforts. The 
Catholics, generally, have approved the plan, and the 
priests, as in the case mentioned at Tralee, have urged 
their people, from the pulpit, to avail themselves of these 
opportunities to educate their children in the knowledge 
indispensable to a successful and honorable life. The 
Presbyterians, Methodists, Independents, Unitarians, Qua- 
kers, and in fact all sects, have joined in this noble and bene- 



HOSTfLlTV OF THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 265 

volent enterprise. But, strange to say, a large portion of the 
Established Church oppose it most strenuously — more vir- 
ulently than the Catholics did the former method. The 
most ridiculous, abusive, and slanderous language is em- 
ployed against the liberal course pursued by the Board of 
National Education. 

I could not account for this bitter hostility, had I not 
witnessed a like conflict in some parts of our own country; 
for, so far as I can learn, the whole objection originated in 
the clause which leaves the reading of the Bible optional 
with the parents. The very matronly Church wants to 
enforce King James' translation upon the young as the 
" true word of God." They forget that on the title-page of 
that version it is said to be "appointed to be read in the 
Churches." It says nothing of schools ! That is a mat- 
ter left discretipnary, for those who should encourage a 
more liberal scheme of popular education. I have asked 
several for a solution of this Episcopal opposition to the 
general difl^usion of useful knowledge. The only answer I 
get is, that it is calculated to bring the Established Church 
into disrepute, and help sustain the " old harlot that sitteth 
on seven hills." I never hear that expression without in- 
quiring after the conduct of her Eldest Daughter ! 

In spite of the opposition of the Establishment, mani- 
fested in many ways, the Board have gone steadily forward 
with their Christian work, and have had great success. I 
am told more than four thousand schools have been estab- 
lished, which are attended by over five hundred thousand 
children.* This is doing doriously. It should be remem- 

* The Chuicli Establishment had, last year, only 116,968 enrolled schol- 
ars in 2,000 schools, scattered all over the kingdom. These are parochial 
schools, patronized by the nobility, gentry, and church magnates, whose mo- 
ney and zeal are given freely lor their support ; though, as yet, the govern- 
ment has refused to bestow the grants asked for. By the report I see that 
57,6.33 pupils are the children of Episcopalians, 14,697 of Dissenters, and 
44,688 of Roman Catholics. These are not much better schools than the 
others, from which they are distinguished by two considerations : First, They 
insist upon a thoroughly sectarian education Every teacher must be a mem- 

23 



266 HONORABLE CONDUCT 

bered that these schools are generally patronized by the 
children of the poor, but such poor as are able to pay a 
portion of the expense. This fact I regret more than any 
other, inasmuch as there are thousands of families who 
have no means at all, to pay any part of their children's 
education, as in cases mentioned at Cloghereen. We 
meet with innumerable families too poor to educate their 
children. In such cases, under the present arrangement, 
private charity is to be invoked, or the children of the 
poorest classes must grow up, after all, in ignorance. The 
large school we have above described, in connection with 
the convent of the " Sisters of Mercy," is an illustration 
of the necessity of this kind of aid. 

I again mention, with feelings of the profoundest satis- 
faction, the honorable and truly Christian conduct of the 
Catholic clergy, and people generally, in reference to the 

ber of the Established Church, and not only cause the Bible to be read as a 
part of the school exercises, but also give special instruction in the doctrines 
and formularies of the church, especially to all the children of parents in her 
communion, and to such others as will consent to such proselyting interfer- 
ence. These schools are placed in the superintendence of the parochial cler- 
gy, who have the right to interfere and direct in their management. Second- 
ly, They are the schools of the higher classes, of the aristocracy, and are at- 
tended by children who are not permitted to associate with the common peo- 
ple. • They are sustained for the purpose of preserving distinction and sustain- 
ing rank, as well as the Episcopal Church ! 

Hence it is not surprising that they have succeeded so well. They have 
wealth, influence, pride, and religious zeal and bigotry in their favor, and all 
the appliances necessary to great prosperity, and need not the charity of Par- 
liament to help them forward. It is regretted that a more liberal spirit can 
not be infused through them, that the " better classes" are so determined to keep 
up invidious distinctions among tlif young, and thus hinder the moral and in- 
tellectual elevation of the nation. But such is aristocracy, and such is secta- 
rianism, in all ages and countries, let the name be what it may. In our own 
boasted land of free and republican schools, a society taking the lofty name of 
" National Education" has been formed, to educate for, and send teachers to 
the Western States, of a particularly religious stamp. Anti-republican and nn- 
christian as the movement is, it finds many friends and advocates. Bnl lam 
thankful that neither there nr>r hero are the governments guiltv of approbating 
such inconsistencies. 



OF THE CATHOLIC CLERGY. 267 

present liberal system of national education. Too much 
can not be said in their praise, for this noble demonstration 
in behalf of their countrymen. It is a triumphant refuta- 
tion of the accusation that they are the advocates of igno- 
rance. I can not assert, with confidence, that they have 
fully changed their ground upon this subject. But if they 
have, there is the greater reason for joy and approbation. 
It is one step, and an important one, towards Irish 
emancipation ; better and wiser than all the Repeal move- 
ments of O'Connel, or republican attempts of less prudent 
agitators. 

It may be regretted that objection is made to the public 
and formal reading of the Scriptures. But the propriety 
of that measure has been questioned by many honest and 
zealous Protestants, in England and America, who respect 
the authority of the written Word as highly as any can, 
and repudiate, in toto, the false and ridiculous traditions 
of the Romish church. It is a great cause of lamentation 
that the Established clergy are so bitterly opposed to this 
liberal system. It is the. best, if not the only method, by 
which the hatred and hostility of the churches and races 
can be removed, and any thing like union and peace be se- 
cured to this distracted nation. Let children of all ranks, 
races, and religions be educated in the same school, and the 
next generation will know nothing of the social evils that 
now exist. It does seem as if there was no mercy, no re- 
spect for the welfare of the Irish people on the part of the 
English, but a settled determination to crush the hope of 
the nation, by opposing every measure which government 
may adopt for their amelioration, enfranchisement as a 
part of the British empire. 

As a Protestant and a republican, I have no sympathy 
nor respect whatever for the Roman Catholic faith and 
pretensions, as such ; but I love justice and humanity from 
a sentiment deeper than sect or nation, I trust, and there- 
fore speak as I do upon this subject. Had the church 
party at once and heartily joined in the plan of Lord Stan- 



268 OPPOSITJON OF THE STATE CHURCH. 

ley for a liberal system of national education, instead of 
opposing it, the ten yeai's past would have advanced the na- 
tion half a century, and could have saved it from the sights of 
poverty, ignorance and crime which now so disgrace all 
parts of it, and agitate it to the very centre. But with a de- 
gree of madness, stupidity, and bigotry the most reprehen- 
sible, they have held out in opposition to the acts of the 
government, and the pleadings of philanthropy, and used 
their utmost endeavors to paralyze these efforts and destroy 
the forlorn hope of Ireland's redemption. And they have 
succeeded but too well ; not so much by the numbers of chil- 
dren they have persuaded from the National schools, as by 
keeping up and increasing a most inveterate hatred be- 
tween the inhabitants, wherever they could. 

It does really seem as if the Church, and its supporters 
and abettors, were determined to extirpate by ignorance, 
persecution, oppression, and famine, the whole Irish race, 
that the lands, lakes, and streams of this beautiful island 
they have so long coveted may be theirs. I am every 
hour more thoroughly convinced that such is the settled 
policy of the Anglo-Irish population, and that the govern- 
ment winks at their doings, except in pretence. I should 
not be surprised if another half century should see the 
Irish people all banished, by an indirect expulsion, or by a 
positive edict, as in Cromwell's time. The Church and 
the landlords seem to contemplate such an event with 
great satisfaction, and to hurry it on as fast as they can. 

But here comes in another view of the subject, alike re- 
prehensible on the part of the Catholics, or, rather, a por- 
tion of them, who have the interest of party and sect more 
at heart than the good of the nation, and the honor and 
happiness of humanity. I mean the opposition lately 
shown on the part of the " Roman See" to the extended 
and completed system of national education. The govern- 
ment, in accordance with the advice of the Board, had 
adopted measures for the establishment of colleges in the 
different provinces, to give opportunities for a thorough and 



OPPOSITION OF THE ROMAN SEE. 269 

finished education. The operations before noticed referred 
only to a common education in the useful sciences, and 
were designed principally for the poorer classes. The col- 
leges were established for those who were able and willing 
to pursue a course of classic education. The same liberal 
basis was adopted, which lay at the foundation of the ele- 
mentary schools. All sectarian interference was strictly 
forbidden, while a proper respect for the authority of reli- 
gion, and a strictly moral life were distinctly enforced. 
But theology was to form no part of a regular course. 
Professors in the various departments were all appointed 
from the ranks of laymen, and irrespective of sectarian 
bias. They are men of enlarged and liberal views, well- 
educated, and every way fitted for apt teachers. It is un- 
derstood that the dignitaries in the Romish church were 
pleased with this arrangement, as well as with the grants 
given to the Maynooth college, which is avowedly Roman 
Catholic. 

All went well, however, till a rescript from the mana- 
gers of the Church at Rome was received, which condemns 
these colleges as " Godless institutions," calculated to sus- 
tain infidelity and irreligion, and subvert the work of 
grace, and insists, pertinaciously, that all the true and faith- 
ful children of the Church shall withhold their encourage- 
ment from them, and devote all their influence to the sup- 
port of a Catholic university, where the young men can 
be nursed in the saving principles of the " Holy Catholic 
Church." 

This movement, it is supposed, was got up in retaliation 
for the course pursued by the " Church Society," in refu- 
sing to act harmoniously in the management of the Na- 
tional Schools. It is much to be lamented, that a Pope 
who has gained some reputation for liberality, should adopt 
a policy so destructive to the peace and permanent pros- 
perity of this island. No doubt he has been deceived by 
the fabrications of designing and malicious priests, who 
are afraid that evils will attend the free education of the 

2^* 



270 RI.IGIITING INFLUENCE 

people, or else, would take vengeance upon the govern- 
ment Church. It does seem as if every effort to redeem 
this nation, however wise, just, and liberal, is destined to 
failure, through the bitter hatred and perpetual animosity 
of sectarists. The British Parliament deserves much cre- 
dit for keeping aloof from this pai'tisan and suicidal war- 
fare, and I can but hope the government will keep straight 
on in its determination to give a liberal and unsectarian edu- 
cation to the young men of Ireland. A few years will 
convince the most sceptical and bigoted of the wisdom and 
humanity of this course. The measure will be sustained, and 
these schools will stand up the pride and glory of the nation, 
when party zeal and sectarian hostility are lost, like the 
darkness of night, in the universal enlightenment and libe- 
rality which shall soon prevail all over the world. 

The good matron expressed her opinions very freely on 
many subjects, and exhibited a large share of knowledge in 
the domestic affairs of her nation and our own. She 
spoke of several pupils who had left her tuition and gone 
to America, most of whom had made out very well. She 
also expressed the highest admiration of our country, espe- 
cially for the generous conduct of our citizens towards 
her famished countrymen last year. 

The hour for dismission having nearly arrived, we took 
our leave, thanking her for her kind attentions, while she 
expressed, in words, her great gratification at receiving a 
visit from us, and bestowing manv blessings, and prayers 
for bur successful journey and safe return. But she, all the 
while, manifested the same cold and reserved dignity as at 
first — the result, no doubt, of the severe austerity of her 
manner of life. I can not believe that human nature re- 
ceives its highest attainments by this system of training. 
There is wanting that vivacity, spirit, and cheerfulness, so 
often commended in the teachings of Jesus and his apos- 
tles. The acts of benevolence, and even a whole life con- 
secrated to virtue and charity, I can understand and appre- 
ciate. But I can see no propriety in the cold, stiff" formal- 



OF A MONASTIC LIFE. 271 

ity and exclusiveness of the ascetic life. It is a withering 
misdirection of the tenderer sympathies and holier affec 
tions of the human heart — the extreme of the rash, impe- 
tuous, and violent passions of persons of mere impulse. 
Christianity indicates a steady, regular, full flow of the 
kindliest feelings, and the friendliest interchange of the so- 
cial and domestic affections, controlled by reason and good 
judgment ; and not a refusal to apply to these sources of 
present, innocent enjoyment, and growing happiness. 
Still, in the present admixture of affairs in this imperfect 
world, it is well, undoubtedly, that these monastic orders 
exist. They have a space and a mission appointed them, 
and help do something to make up the sum and variety of 
a perfect whole. They are not an end, however — only a 
means ; and, for all their good works, deserve to be praised, 
while for their errors we have forgiveness, and for their 
miseries a tear. 

The Irish-town, viewed by daylight, is a decided im- 
provement, in some respects, upon the other. Its streets are 
wider, its houses generally better, and its inhabitants less 
squalid and wicked : at least we saw less open shame and de- 
graded misery, though quite enough of both. Near one of the 
bridges which joins these towns, are the extensive flouring 
mills of the Russels, the great business men of the city. 
They are said to be immensely rich ; to own, in addition to 
these mills, distilleries, breweries, and a " pig factory," con- 
taining nearly a million of pigs, which number are slaugh- 
tered here annually, besides several ships engaged in the 
American trade. 

There is in other parts of the city large glove, brush, 
cotton, blonde, and lace manufactories. In the latter it is 
said over one thousand girls are constantly employed, and 
that an article, equal in beauty and goodness to the best 
Mechlin lace, is manufactured in them. In fact, as before 
remarked, the city presents the evidence of a fair amount 
of enterprise, industry, and thrift. 



272 A READING-ROOM. 

Coming down the main street, we were invited into the 
large, elegant, and well furnished reading-room. Files of 
English, Irish, Continental, and American papers were ar- 
ranged about the spacious apartment, and forty or fifty well 
dressed, and intelligent looking men were busy reading them, 
or discussing the movements of the government, and the 
conduct of the agitators. We read and listened, and 
found most of the papers and the talkers to be truly loyal. 
I busied myself also — for a time, in copying from a Limerick 
paper, the number and character of the ejectments which 
had taken place in that neighborhood, within a short time 
previous. From one estate seventy-two families, of five 
hundred and twenty-one persons, had been turned houseless 
and friendless upon the world ; from another, twenty-one 
families, one hundred and nine persons; from another, thir- 
ty-three families, and one hundred and eighty-two; and so 
on, till I counted up from two papers, over seventeen 
hundred persons who had been forcibly ejected from their 
homes, and from all means of subsistence. 

I noticed particularly the merciful conduct of one land- 
lord — a clergyman, which was given as a specimen of true 
philanthropy, and Christian benevolence, in contrast with the 
more barbarous cruelty of other cases described. Wishing 
to get rid of his tenants, instead of turning them out pen- 
niless, to shirk by beggary or plunder, as so many others 
had been, he gave to each family, for their improvement, 
half enough to pay their passage to America, in case thev 
actually went. This case was lauded to the skies, and of- 
fered as an example for others to imitate.* 

There are often cases of the grossest cruelty and in- 
justice, in the ejectment of tenants, who do not please the 

* Numerous cases came to my knowledge afterwards, where the landlords 
had bought up leases and tenant rights, on condition the owners would remove 
to America ; and also other instances where collections had been made to send 
persons from the workhouses — paupers and persons guilty of small crimes — 
to our country for us to support. Such is the glory of British philanthropy 
and justice I and such the source of the wretchedness and high taxes which 
abound in our cities I 



EJECTMENTS. 273 

landlord, middleman, or the agents, or who stand in the way 
of the introduction of some English or Scotch tenants, who 
understand better the arts of agriculture, or are more 
supple to further the ambitious projects of their noble mas- 
ter! Sometimes a sporting landlord, long an absentee, 
wants to lay out a hunting park, and therefore drives off fif- 
ty or a hundred families, from their homes, turns four or five 
hundred poor helpless creatures, empty-handed, upon the 
cold charities of the world, who must beg, steal, or starve, 
for there is no chance for them to work, and thev have no 
means with which to obtain a lease, nor to get " till Amir- 
iky." 

Talk of Southern slavery ! In practice it is not a thou- 
sandth part as wrong, as cruel, and abominable as the tenant 
system of Ireland. Our planters are obliged to treat their 
slaves mercifully, to provide for them in sickness and old 
age, and always give them enough to eat. But here if the 
rent is not paid, the constable is called in, and the tenant 
distrained, and if he can not pay he is evicted — wife and 
children turned pennyless upon the world to dig a shelter 
in a bog, or build one by the stone wall, and get his food as 
best he can. I abominate the American slave system from 
the bottom of my soul. What then must be my feelings in 
the midst of such scenes of wrong and suffering as abounds 
in all parts of this ill-fated country. They are indescriba- 
ble.* 

* " In Galway Union, recent accounts declared the number of poor evicted, 
and their homes leveled within the last two years, to equal the number in Kil- 
rush — 4,000 families and 20,000 human beings are said to have been here also 
thrown out upon the road, houseless and homeless. I can readily believe the 
statement, for to me some parts of the country appeared like an enormous 
graveyard — the numerous gables of the unroofed dwellings seeming to be 
gigantic tombstones. They were, indeed, records of decay and death far more 
melancholy than any grave-yard can show. Looking on them, the doubt arose 
in my mind, am I in a civilized country ? Have we really a free constitution 1 
Can such scenes be paralleled in Siberia or Calliana i" — P. Scrope, M. P. 
Notes ox Ireland. 

" Dear Sir : I have been for the last ten days through the Counties of 
Limerick, Galway, Clare, and across thence to the King's County All 



274 ENGLISH COMPASSION 

I am overwhelmed! Oh England, thou boasted land of 
freedom and justice, of philosophy and nobleness, of reli- 
gion and philanthropy, — English laws, the models of chris- 
tian jurisprudence — British honor and magnanimity — spirit 
of Blackstone and Wilberforce — speeches of Peel and 
Russell — glory of Wellington, himself an Irishman — pride 
and extravagance of Victoria! What meaneth these roof- 
less huts, these starved stomachs, cadaverous faces, naked 
hmbs, and scattered corpses ! Have ye compassion for the 
well-fed, laughing, singing, shining black men of our repub- 
lic ? It is well. But remember "charity begins at home " 
When ye have purged away the wrongs and miseries of 
your own sea-girt isles, then come to our relief. But till 
then stand mute, in shame ! Who ever heard of the starva- 
tion of slaves, whether crops fail or not ? But who has not 
heard of the famished thousands of Ireland, whose carcasses 
are strown over the lands of " noble lords, and right honor- 
able barons," who live in magnificence and luxury in Lon- 
don, and help make laws for the empire, and still weep 
crocodile tears over the wrongs of American slavery ? Oh 
Heavens, is there no cloud to cover the disgrace of earth I 

I also read in one paper a very precise account, which 
ran thus : " Her majesty, with his royal highness, and the 
Prince of Wales took an airing in Hyde Park this morning. 
Her majesty was clad in," — too much fustian for me to 
copy. In another part of the same paper was a glowing 
account of a drawing-room at St. James', with a full and 
particular account of the dresses of the noble ladies in at- 
tendance, the wives of several Irish lords among them. 
The dress of one of these ladies would have purchased food 
enough to have saved the lives of fifty starving persons, who 

attempts to depict the existing state of the misery of the masses beyond the 
Shannon must come utterly short of the tnith. All that tract of country 
from Killaloe to Portumna, on the Galway side of the Shannon, is lying 
waste and uncultivated, About three out of four of the miserable huts are 
unroofed. Some of the former inmates are dead, some in the union, and 
some few huddled together in oije or two of the huts still existing. The men 
generally have perished." — Evening Packet. 



FOR AMERICAN SLAVERY. 275 

have been ejected from their rights for the non-payment of 
rent. But no, that is nothing ! What are the Hves o^ fifty 
poor, ignorant Irish Cathohcs to a diamond pin or a satin 
dress ? Nothing, sir, nothing ! Away with your radical 
democracy, socialism, " sickish sentimentality." You use 
seditious language ! You speak against the Queen. But I 
speak in the name of the King of kings, and Lord of lords. 
Art thou a Christian ? Thou professest to be. Thinkest 
thou then that God will hold thee guiltless of the life of thy 
starved tenant — thy brother ? Hast thou no care, no wish 
for his soul, that it may be saved — for his life, that it may 
be spared ? What have these poor little children done to 
deserve such neglect — such abuse — that they should be 
turned out of doors to starve in the fields, or in the road, 
and there lay unburied — while thou hast no need for their 
poor mud hovels, but begrudged them even those ? Canst 
thou rest in peace, while these tortured souls are crying to 
heaven for mercy, as their bodies lay quivering on the cold 
ground till death comes to their relief? Dance on, then, in 
your royal court robes of gilt and satin, and eat what you 
can of the delicate dainties set before you, but know that 
for all this, thou and thy country shall be brought into judg- 
ment ! But one thing I beseech of you, for your own sakes 
— do not squander your tears upon the poor slaves of 
America while you have so much more need of them at 
home ! It is needless. 

After some hours spent in writing, we took a walk across 
the Wellesley bridge, a magnificent structure, which we in- 
spected closely and with admiration. We have few such 
specimens of solid, and thorough architecture in the bridges 
of our country. It consists of five large elliptic arches ex- 
tending from the solid stone quay across the Shannon. An 
elegant stone balustrade forms the parapet on either side, 
and the roadway is level and wide. The end on the city 
side is formed of a swing for the admission of vessels 
through the lock into the basin above. In our country this 



276 THE LIMERICK-STONE. 

bridge and the quays adjoining, would be considered a great 
curiosity. They are so too us, and can not fail to be at- 
tractive to everybody, as massive works of art. 

The inhabitants complain, and probably not without 
cause, that the government ought to add to the other im- 
provements, a good dock for the better security of the 
shipping. It is said that strong gales often unmoor vessels 
and strand them on the opposite shore, or dash them against 
the bridge and quays with great destruction. By some, it 
is added, that the outlay of a small amount of money would 
remove the bars from the lower river, and admit vessels of 
all sizes, such as are now compelled to unload below the 
town. On the merits of these complaints, I am not capa- 
ble of forming a judgment ; but there seems to be force in 
them, much greater than in many other things which have 
received the notice of government. Employment would, 
at least, be afforded to many now idle, and a permanent im- 
provement be gained, which would be of great advantage 
to the city and nation. 

From the bridge we passed the Royal Pauper House, 
or barracks — the curse of liberty, and the poverty of the 
nation — to the famed " Limerick-Stone," near the Thomond 
bridge. On this stone the treaty of Limerick was signed, 
in 1692, which ended its liberties, after a noble struggle, 
the year previous, against the English army, commanded 
by King William in person ; compelled to surrender to the 
superior numbers under General Ginkle, afterwards created 
a nobleman by the gift of a large domain, under the title 
of the Earl of Athlone. Whether any " royal or noble 
blood" was thus infused into his veins, does not appear 
from the account, but his descendants have held the hono- 
rable right to oppress the Irish population as much as they 
pleased ever since. The stone itself has been raised from 
the bank of the river, so as to appear prominent above the 
street. The inscription on it is much worn, but we learned 
that it was upon this stone that the nobles of the beleaguered 
city signed their submission to English dictation — the con- 



A WORK HOUSE. 277 

eluding act in the drama of English intervention, besought 
by Dermod Mac Murrough four hundred years before ! 
A not unfrequent result of English interventions. 

From the bridge we visited a work-house on that, the 
Clare side of the river, and had a conversation with the 
overseer, whom we met near by. We had no desire to in- 
spect it. It is a large building, and the outside appearance 
is very respectable. The keeper made a bitter complaint, 
alledging that the immense taxation of Irish property 
is the cause of the ruin of the country. I at once 
guessed he was a landowner, which he confessed after- 
wards. This class are for ever grumbling about exorbitant 
taxes. In fact, nobody seems to be satisfied in this coun- 
try. All complain in one way or an other. Most assert 
that the " poor-law" is the great evil — the prolific source 
of all the misery, forgetting that fifty thousand soldiers are 
quartered in the country, and as many policemen, who 
must be paid and fed, to say nothing about the millions ex- 
ported annually, to feed and clothe absentee landlords, and 
pay for their extravagance and carousals, for which no re- 
turn is made. 

On the side of the hill, overlooking the city and river, is 
situated a splendid mansion of some body, whose name I 
did not learn. The grounds about it are laid out and or- 
namented with princely magnificence, and, but for the ho- 
vels of the poor near by it, would make a beautiful appear- 
ance. As it is, it appears like a " pearl in a swine's nest." 
The front garden is adorned with statues of heathen gods, 
lions, and eagles — kings of men, of beasts and birds ! I at 
once concluded he must be a true and loyal knight, for 
these are fit emblems of one whose splendor contrasts so 
strangely with the poverty about him. 

Wherever we went, we were beset by beggars, who 
stuck to us like the galiinippers of our southern States. 
We could not shake them off. To give to one was to call 
about us twenty others more destitute and clamorous. 
The evening is the time when they issue out from their 

24 



278 SETTLING A BILL. 

dens, and loiter about the streets, sit at the corners, about 
the doors of the hotels and places of resort, every where, 
stretching out their withered hands, and turning up their 
sunken eyes, imploringly, with a " The Lord bliss yer 
honor, an' ye'll give a poor crayture a ha'-penny, till buy 
soome bread for the childers." 

This is the time, too, when a still more abandoned crew 
— the morally depraved — crawl out of their lurking pla- 
ces, and perambulate the streets, in search of their prey. 
Hosts of these miserable, unfortunate beings patrol the 
streets, accosting one at every turn, but in a manner so 
abashed and hesitating as to prove that all sense of virtue 
and decency is not yet destroyed. We were glad to make 
a retreat at an early hour to the quiet rooms of our hotel, 
and find, in writing, reflection, and sleep, a relief from the 
miseries we had witnessed. 



CHAPTER IX. 

MORE TALK THAN TRAVEL. 

Settling a Bill. — The Canal. — O'Brien's Castle. — Falls of the Shannon. — 
Castle Connel. — Tipperary. — Caiises of Outrages. — Remedies. — Straggle 
for Land. — Evictions. — Toomevara. — Intimidations. — Landlords at Fault. 
— Good Usage makes Good Tenants. — Many Proofs. — American Farm- 
ers. — Hints for Englishmen. 

TO KILLALOE. 

May 24. — We rose at an early hour, and, as little more 
was to be seen, busied ourselves with writing, till the family 
began to stir, when we called for our bill — and a small one 
it was not. Several articles were inserted which we had 
never seen. But there was no use in quarreling with the 
handsome daughter of Mr. O'Grady, who managed the do- 
mestic and financial aflTairs of the house, and answered to 
all the items at which we demurred, after we had sent a 
demurrer, by boots, to O'Grady himself The daughter 



HIGH CHARGES. 279 

would not disturb his slumbers though the sun was two 
hours high, but she would assure us that the bill was ex- 
actly just, for she had kept it herself, and it was right. It 
was of no use to tell her that she had inserted several items 
which must have been ordered by some less temperate than 
ourselves. She, doubtless, thought we ought to have or- 
dered all she had charged us, and that, therefore, it was 
our loss, and not hers, if we had not had it. So we "paid 
up" with as good grace as our stifled rage would permit, 
but neither " boots" nor " chambermaid" received a frac- 
tion that time. 

It was it vain that the former followed us with his de- 
mand. We referred him to his employer, who would, un- 
doubtedly, make it all right with him out of the enormous 
bill which he had charged us. Poor fellow ! he persisted 
that he had nothing to do with that, and should not get a 
cent above his " chances" for which he had to pay £5 a 
year. A hard chance this time, my boy ; for we can not 
consent to be charged twice the amount we should have 
paid at Cruise's, or any other hotel in the kingdom, for no 
better fare, and then be dunned afterwards, simply because 
you happen to know we are Americans, and hence suppose, 
as you say, that we are rich. That is a poor return for the 
little token of kindness we showed you last year. Make a 
fair charge, the usual price, and we will not complain ; but 
our generosity we choose to keep in our own hands, to dis- 
pose of to our liking. Twelve shillings, ($3,00,) for two 
lodgings, an ordinary breakfast, dinner, and tea, is near 
double what any decent host in the realm would charge a 
noblemen. And though we are sovereigns, we are not 
willing, after such an imposition, to make presents on de- 
mand. 

Budgets in hand we hastened to the canal landing, from 
which we departed at 7 o'clock, in an iron packet boat, 
some six or seven feet wide and fifty long. There were 
not many passengers on board ; for, since the opening of 
the railroad, a short time ago, most of the travel to Dublin 



280 THE CANAL. 

goes that way. There were, however, enough for comfort, 
and a few of the " better class." The morning was beauti- 
ful, and we promised ourselves a pleasant ride on lake Derg 
and the Upper Shannon. We secured our places and paid 
our fare through to Dublin — fare moderate, and comforts 
few. No matter, we are here to see how our neighbors live, 
and would have no alteration on our account. I prefer to 
see things as they are, that a more correct opinion may be 
formed of the actual condition of things. 

Along the line of the canal, for some distance, women 
were engaged in washing in it. For this purpose they 
either kneeled close to the edge, or else stood a foot or two 
in the water, and there, washed, " battled," rinsed, and 
wrung their clothes. Old women and young ones were en- 
gaged at this work in great numbers, and presented to us 
an object of novelty worthy of note. 

Not far from the city, the canal crosses the main river, 
which makes a curve towards the east, and keeps up the 
west side to O'Brien's bridge, near which it enters the 
Shannon, along the shore of which boats are towed to the 
lake just above Killaloe. The valley through which the 
canal and river pass, is rich and beautiful, and tolerably 
well cultivated. The shores, at a distance, are adorned 
with handsome mansions and villas, surrounded by pleasant 
grounds and rich meadows. The hills back, and the moun- 
tains in the distance, add much to the beauty of the 
scenery. 

At a distance, on the right, stands the ancient tower of 
Castle Connel, close on the opposite bank of the Shannon, 
near the Doonas Falls. This is said to be a place of much 
resort by the people of Limerick on Sundays and holidays. 
During the summer months many come here to reside. 
The principal attractions are the natural beauties of the 
location, a chalybeate spring, the rapids of the Shannon, 
and purity of the air. The only attraction it had for us 
was the gruff ruins of O'Brien's castle, which stands up in 
solemn defiance of time and change, a monument of the 



SHANNON RAPIDS. 281 

strength and dignity of the kings of Munster. It stands 
upon a detached rock, close in the town, and looks sullenly- 
down upon the pigmies who now are content to dwell in 
mud cabins, indolent, and oppressed, wholly unworthy the 
great chiefs to whose clan their ancestors belonged. 

I here give the description of the rapids, by an English- 
man, that my countrymen may know what passes for 
" sublime grandeur" in " English eyes." 

" The Shannon is here, for more than a quarter of a mile, almost a cataract ; 
and this, to an English eye, must be particularly striking. It is only in the 
streams and rivulets of England, that rapids are found ; the larger rivers gen- 
erally, glide smoothly on without impediment from rocks ; the Thames, Trent, 
Severn, and Mersey, when they loose the character of streams, and become 
rivers, hold a noiseless course ; but the Shannon, larger than all four, here 
pours that immense body of water which above the rapids is forty feet deep, 
and three hundred yards wide, through and above a congregation of huge 
stones and rocks, which extend nearly half a mile ; and offers not only an un- 
usual scene, but a spectacle approaching much nearer to the sublime, than any 
moderately sized stream can offer even in its highest cascade. None of the 
Welsh waterfalls, nor the Giesbach in Switzerland, can compare, for a mo- 
ment, in grandeur and effect with the rapids of the Shannon." 

The rapids are about equal to the falls in the Connecti- 
cut at Enfield, or in the Ohio at Louisville, in low stages 
of water. Yet to those unfamiliar with large rivers, and 
the noise of foaming cataracts, this is naturally an object 
of much curiosity. To us it had not half the interest of 
the old castle, because not half the novelty, The Shannon 
falls, in the distance of fifteen miles, from Killaloe to Lime- 
rick, between ninety and one hundred feet, more than half 
of which is in the space between Castle Connel and Castle 
Troy. At O'Brien's bridge there is a small village, and 
near the hill of Doonas, are the hamlets of Erina and 
Cloonlard. There are no other places of consequence till 
we approach Killaloe. 

On the east bank, is the county of Tipperary, one of 
the largest in Ireland, and one of the most wretched and 
restless. From time immemorial this county, bordered on 
Connaught and Leinster, has been the battle ground of 
the feuds and strifes between the opposing provinces. In 



282 HOW SOME LIVE. 

this region Cromwell disbanded his army after having sub- 
dued the county, and cleared it of the Catholic population, 
whom he had driven into Connaught, shipped to other coun- 
tries, or slain by the sword. Many soldiers settled in this 
region, and English grandees who supported his govern- 
ment were rewarded with liberal grants of the best land. 
The soldiers mingled with the people, married Irish wives, 
and produced the race of large, well-formed, and handsome 
people who are found in this portion of the kingdom. But 
they did not much elevate the moral or temporal condition 
of the inhabitants. Crushed by the feudal power, which is 
ever suspicious of the improvement of dependents, they 
have struggled in vain for right and liberty, No part of 
the country has been so ready for revolt as Tipperary and 
Limerick, and no parts have felt more severely the blighting 
effects of absentee landlordism. Nenagh, Clonmell, Cashel, 
and Limerick are names closely allied to the wrongs and 
struggles of Ireland. Not even Galway, Mayo, Sligo, Clare, 
or Kent, ha^e suffered so much, for there the people with 
less information, and less manliness, have submitted to the 
vilest impositions till no heart of resistance is left them. 

As long as they can, they continue to till the soil, and sell 
all they can produce to pay rent and taxes, except a few 
potatoes, and when they can do that no longer, they live 
on "dillisk and dhoolaman, or seaweed," which they gather 
from the rocks. Potatoes and butter-milk they esteem 
good living, and call those who are able to have it, "thokey," 
tha.t is, good Hvei^s. Many infuse pepper in water to give 
taste to their poor potatoes, and eat nothing else for months. 
When they can get none of these they lay down and die. 

The people of Tipperary and Limerick are not willing 
to submit to such cruelty ; they will not starve without a 
struggle. They cling to life with greater tenacity, and 
every now and then, fee! twinges of conscience, and start 
up with fitful glimmerings of hope, and make a futile at- 
tempt to subvert the causes of their misery. But all is 
vain ; and they sink back into a gloomy and sullen despair 



OUTRAGES AND INTIMIDATIONS. 283 

and, in the bitterness of their souls seek vengeance on the 
minions of that power which oppresses them. 



OUTRAGES AND INTIMIDATIONS THEIR CAUSES AND CURE. 

In conversation with some men, this morning, I learned 
many things about the outrages and intimidations which so 
frequently occur in this part of the country. They gene- 
rally originate in a struggle for land, on which alone they 
depend for a subsistence, and from which they are evicted 
by the unfeeling landlords and their heartless agents.* The 

* " The county of Tipperary has long possessed the notoriety of being 
the focus of outrage and disorder. . . . From all I hear, the owner of an es- 
tate, in former days, kept open house, lived usually in a style beyond his 
income, aped the expenditure of men of superior fortune, shot, hunted, and 
got money as he could, to keep going on. Most of the estates are entailed ; 
the owners married, and every means were resorted to, to raise money. Some 
times long leases were granted to men of property, in order to obtain funds> 
who commenced letting out land at an increased rent, to middle-men. The 
sons of the land-owner grew up, hunted and shot with the father, and would 
have shot any one who suggested to them that they ought to do some thing 
to maintain themselves. The sole means of providing for them, was to let 
to them portions of the estate, which, being usually entailed, could only 
be done at the least improved rent. The younger sons then got a local 
standing, became ' Squireens,' started shooting and hunting lodges, sub-let 
THE LAND, which they never thought of farming themselves, at an increased 
RENT ; and, so long as their father lived, were principally at home. On the 
death of the father, the elder brother came into the estate, and the knives 
and forks of the younger brothers were no longer regularly set for them. 
The stables were not always ready for their horses as long as they pleased, 
and they found out that they had to support themselves. To do this, an 
other SCREW was put upon the sub-tenants, and all sorts of chicanery were 
resorted to by these needy men, to obtain money from those under them. 
As they could barely live, the usual course was to try and get some govern- 
ment-place, as they could turn to neither business nor profession. To obtain 
this the member of Parliament for the county was followed and besieged, and tliey 
began to find out that their tenants could be made 40s. freeholders, and that this 
was an available means of influence. The unfortunate under-tenants were 
then compelled to subdivide their land with sons, to make voters, in order 
that, at the next election, these votes might be bargained for a place. The 
mischief did not cease here. This forced subdivison rapidly increased the 
population. As there was nothing but the land to live by, the increased 
population brought competition for land, and eagerness to get any patch, 



284 OPPRESSION AND NEGLECT. 

people themselves are vvofully ignorant of the arts of hus- 
bandry, as well as indolent in their habits, and no induce- 
ment is set before them to correct either. Land-owners, 
agents, and middle-men are alike the enemies of the com- 
mon people, extracting the last penny, pound of butter, and 
hamper of potatoes for rents, taxes, and tithes, to sustain, 
in idleness, the very men who cause their misery. Is it 
any cause of wonder, that hatred and malice should be en- 
gendered, under such circumstances ; or that passion, 
stirred to the last pitch of desperation, should seek ven- 
geance, and count it sweet ? It would require a degree of 
forbearance not common in an ignorant, neglected, and 

however small, at increased rents. The people, following the teaching, 
began themselves to subdivide ; and the ' Squireens' or needy middle-men 
RAISED THEIR RENTS proportionately to the increased competition for the land, 
which they themselves had brought about. But the increase in population 
went on ; the absence of any trading or professional knowledge among these 
SMALL GENTRY, too proud to do or leam any thing, but not too proud to resort 
to any tricky jobbing to raise money or got a place, brought with it, of course, 
the absence of any enterprize or any business undertaking, which could afford 
other EMPLOYMENT FOR THE PEOPLE than the cultivation of a patch of land. 
The PEOPLE thus got beaten down, and became serfs, crushed down to the 
worst food, and the most miserable clothing and dwellings ; and, being neg- 
lected and without knowledge, they were utterly unable to improve them- 
selves. ... In England, you some times heard of landlords compelling their 
tenants to vote for them ; but in Ireland, the tenants' votes were a valuable 
commodity, not to be given away. They were bargained for places, and I 
am assured of instances where they have been sold for money, which the 
landlord himself pocketed. The poor tenants were deprived of even that re- 
source of the vilest in England — they could not even sell their political fran- 
chise for a bribe, for their landlords generally sold it for them, and pocketed 
the amount without consulting them, and compelled them to vote as he liked. 
Is it to be wondered at that such a system should bear such fruits ? The 

fruits are now being reaped Estates get into the courts, and receivers 

are appointed, who exact the highest competition rents ; embarrassed land- 
lords live abroad, or in English towns, and they also exact the highest rents 
they can. The best tenants, who will live in comfort, are compelled to emi- 
grate, and the most ignorant and unenterprizing tenants remain, without know- 
ledge or means to improve the land, and striving, by endurance and potato 
diet, to squeeze on', the rent. They have no means of employment; land 
they must have, to live, until the struggle for a patch of land has become so 
desperate, that it is retained by a system of terror and assassination disgrace- 
ful to any country." — Foster's Letters, p. 331-4. 



THE CAUSE OF OUTRAGES. 285 

abused people like these, to keep cool under such cruel 
grievances. How could it be otherwise than it is ? If 
landlords will oppress and abuse their tenants, keep them 
ignorant and starved, reduce them to brutes what can they 
expect but brutal returns ? 

The gentleman with whom I conversed gave it as his opin- 
ion that " bad farming" is more the cause of poverty and mis- 
ery, in this country than " high rents and taxes ;" that if the 
people could be taught to improve their lands, they could pay 
all demands, and live comfortably. There is, doubtless, truth 
in his remark. But how can these poor creature.s begin to 
improve ? Are the proper men, the land-owners, here to in- 
struct and help them ?* Are they encouraged to make 
improvements ? No such thing ; but they have every rea- 
son to know that if they make lands more productive, they 
shall be made to pay a correspondingly higher rent, and 
perhaps be evicted to give place to some other. 

Here, then, it is manifest that the fault, seen upon the 
surface, is mutual. But the real evil lies deeper than ap- 
pears. It is, in my humble opinion, in the want of a per- 
manent right to the soil. I have seen and heard enough 
of " Anti-rentism," in my own country, to deprecate all 
land aristocracies, and the whole system of feudal ten- 
antr}', which has come down from the medieval ages of po- 
litical, religious, and social darkness and depravity. What 
right, under God, has one man to nineteen, fifty, or a hun- 
dred thousand acres of that earth which " is His, and the 
fulness thereof," and which is given to His children, as 
freely as air or water ? These lords, and earls, and dukes 
did not buy it. The king gave it to them of his own 
" mere motion" and loving favor. But how came he — one 
man ; at times a very mean one — by such an inheritance ? 
Who gave it to him ? Where is his deed ? In the records 

* The English Commissioners ask, " Do the land-owners take no steps to 
introduce a better system, such as having a model farm V Mr. Nicholas 
Maher, who manages an estate of 19,000 acres, answers, " No; there is no 
Buch thing in the country." 



286 THE TENURE OF LAND. 

of history, written in human blood, and sealed with the 
stamp of a million deaths. It is his by "divine right." 
But I should like to see the " patent" under which he 
claims such boundless territory, which he parcels out to 
his courtiers so lavishly ! He shows it in his armies, and 
defends it — not before the chancery of heaven, but on the 
battle-field ! Cromwell's right to cut, and carve, and give 
away, was as good as Henry's, or John's, or Elizabeth's, 
for by might he won it for himself From him and them 
these landlords claim, and such is England's law, and her 
judges and armies are ready to enforce it ! This may be 
all right, on the principle of eternal justice, but I confess I 
can not see it so. I have not so read Christianity. 

It seems to me the assassinations, murders, and intimida- 
tions, of which I see so many accounts in the secular pa- 
pers, are the natural fruit of such a tree as kings have 
planted — sparsely yielded, when compared with the whole- 
sale slaughters of Sitric, Strongbow, Ludlow, Carew, 
and other minions of bi-ute force, who have led hireling 
foreign soldiery to invade the rights, destroy the peace, 
slay the innocent, fasten fetters upon the limbs of the hon- 
est and industrious thousands, and sequester their rightful 
properties to interlopers, who have rarely graced their pos- 
sessions with their presence ! These lands have been so 
secured that, however deeply encumbered, they can not be 
alienated, even at the demand of an honest creditor. 

Thus the people, disinherited of their rightful possessions, 
their only soui'ce of subsistence, have been admitted back 
on short leases, or, more commonly, as tenants-at-will, 
so that, at any moment, when it shall please the whim of 
an old, gouty, capricious landlord, misinformed by his in- 
triguing agents, or cheated by a set of rapacious middle- 
men, they can be ejected from their homes, the houses 
which they, or their fathers, or their ancestors, built with 
their own hands, pulled down over their heads; and their 
wives and little ones turned out pennyless, and, perhaps, at 
an inclement season, to beg or starve! Work there is 



THE MAIN DIFFICULTY. 287 

none, nor any land for them ; for the competition encour- 
aged by heartless agents, is so great that rents are run up 
to such an enormous rate that the produce would not pay 
them, to say nothing about taxes or a living. In this con- 
dition, revenge is awakened, and, goaded on by the cries 
of starving families, with no chance of employment, and 
the work-house full ; who that knows the weakness of hu- 
man nature, unassisted by enlightened principle, wrapt 
in ignorance, controlled by passion, trembling with mad- 
ness, desperate with hunger, and despairing for a better time 
coming, will wonder at the outrages that follow — the minia- 
ture of that war which was prosecuted with such deadly 
and disastrous results, in the names of Kings and Protect- 
ors, against their forefathers ? Are not such effects the 
natural results of such causes ?*' 

* " While they waste one half the subsistence they might get out of tjie 
land, the most frightful struggles for subsistence are going on; and atrocities 
and cowardly assassinations are committed which are a disgrace to any coun- 
try. The Bravo of Italy is more than equalled by the cowardly ruffian of 
Tipperary." — Foster's Letters. " 

This will do very well for an English partisan writer. It is wickedness for 
this people, or any other, to act on the principle of revenge. Better for them 
to lay down in the bog and die innocently, than to add murder to other sins, 
by slaying the man who starves them, and without cursing the government 
which oppresses them. But such is not human nature, as every Englishman 
and the British government know, very well. I will quote some examples, 
that my readers may know the provocations which have made this people so 
" atrocious." 

" Lord Howarden has ejected many tenants for various causes, and taken 
their land into his own possession. This has produced great misery among 
them, and intense hatred. The life of Mr. Stewart, his agent, has been repeat- 
edly attempted in consequence. He has, as a me'ans of protection, been ' in the 
habit of taking two boys, one before and one behind him, on the horse, when 
he would be riding through the country ; so that he could not be killed with- 
out one of the boys being shot.' [An evidence that justice is not all extin- 
guished by vengeance.] The horrid distress of the people drives them to com- 
mit these atrocities." 

"Amongst poor creatures so reduced, the competition for a patch of con- 
acri' l.'ind to live upon is ' dreadful,' says Mr. Bradshaw, a landed proprietor 
nonr Tipppr.'iry 

" It is wretched to sec the state of some of the poor for want of employ- 
ment. I may say, and do say it fearlessly, tla-y are little belter tluui the brute 



288 REMEDIEt! PROPOSED. 

As far as 1 could learn, the cause of the outrages so often 
occurring, are, in most cases, traceable to the cruelty of 
landowners, and hence to the government. The simple 
explanation of the whole matter is, the people are opp^'essed 
and starved. In such a condition, what but hostility can 
be expected of them ? And who is at fault but they who 
have produced it, or, having the remedies, refuse to apply 
them? 

The remedies proposed to cure these evils are totally in- 
adequate, because they do not reach the cause. One sug- 
gests that the government should find work for the people ; 

beasts, for want of employment. They sometimes get employed at a 6d. or 
8d. a day, and their whole object is, by means of their dung-pit, to get a 
quarter of an acre of ground ; and they get their living through the year from 
it." ..." They have miserable huts," says Mr. Jordan, land-agent to Baron 
Pennefather, " and it is only wonderful how they have patience to live as they 
do, at all. There were a few shots fired into my own house very lately, but 
there was nobody shot ; we do not mind these little trifles I" 

" Agricultural laborers," says Mr. J. Loughmane, near Cashel, " are the 
most miserable men upon the face of the earth, at the present day. I could 
not describe the situation of the creatures. They have neither food nor rai- 
ment ; they have no bed-clothes ; the clothes they wear in the day, they must 
clothe themselves with at night." 

" They are half a year idle for want of employment, and their wives are 
generally out as paupers in the country," says Mr. O'Flynn, farmer, of New 
Birmingham. " Their huts are miserable. There are seven, or eight, or nine of 
them upon one heap of straw, and generally the clothing they have in the day 
is their night-covering. There is no sheet, or blanket, and those who are last 
in bed must get up, for they have no clothes to keep them warm. I have 
witnessed that." 

" Is not this sad story enough to account for the state in which society is here ? 
The people for the most part here are a fine race. The majority of them are 
stout, and of an average size, and you see among them many tall and power- 
ful men. They are a mixed race, very many of them descended from 
Cromwell's soldiers, who were disbanded in this county, the original deben- 
tures and grants of land to whom arc still extant. . . Near Nenagh, according 
to the evidence of Mr. M'Cartin, in the midst of all this distress, and misery, 
and shootings about the possession of land, there is ' an immense tract of 
waste \?iXiA — the finest mountain land in the world — from 15,000 to 20,000 
acres of wild land.' And according to the report of Mr. Griffiths, ' it is pro- 
bable that about .300,000 acres of waste land might be reclaimed i'or cultiva- 
tion, and GO.flOO acres might be drained for pasture,' in this very county." — 
Foster's Letter?, p. 331-3. 



INADEaUATE TO THE DIFFICULTY. 289 

another that farm schools should be established ; another that 
monasteries should be restored ; another that the Catholic 
priests should be paid ; another that waste lands should be 
improved ; another that these outrages should be suppressed 
by a stronger police force ; another that a more extensive 
emigration to Australia should be carried on by the aid of 
government ; another that long leases, or tenant rights, 
should be given, and so on to the end of the chapter. Now- 
all these, or any of them may or may not afford a temporary 
relief It is certain none of them contemplate the real, per- 
manent prosperity of the masses of the people, in a way to 
attach them to the country. They do not reach the diffi- 
culty, in a way to remove the cause. They are not radi- 
cal, nor specific. 

The people are, in all cases, spoken of and treated by the 
rulers, civil and social, as vassals, as inferior, and dependent 
upon the will and caprice of the land-owners. Those who 
would improve the tenux-e to the land propose no more than 
a lease of ten or twenty years. And most on the side of 
power rely mainly on the government lash to whip the peo- 
ple into peace and prosperity. The days have gone by 
when absolute power over personal liberty is vested in 
governments. Christian liberty is too well understood by 
most enlightened nations to consent to forcible measm-es. 
Men must be drawn by motives and convictions which do 
not impinge upon individual freedom ; the masses are com- 
ing to have some indistinct notions of natural rights, and 
social privileges, and justice and equality between man and 
man. They have heard the scripture, which saith, " He has 
made of one blood all nations of men," and that all men 
have sinned and come short of the glory of God ; that God 
loved the humblest child of earth, and sent his Son to preach 
the " gospel to the poor;" to deliver the captives, and defend 
the outcasts. And they have some faith in God, as the 
Ruler of kings, and Protector of men, and they are not dis- 
posed to submit to be wronged and starved, while others 
revel on the sweat, and blood, and sinews of their fellow- 

25 



290 THE KEMOVAL OF DISABILITIES. 

men. It is a pity they do not understand more fully the 
true spirit and power of Christianity, for then they would 
be able to work out their salvation more certainly. But it 
is vain to talk of this to starving men. They have ears, 
but they can not hear, and eyes but they can not see, further 
than to seek vengeance on those who torture them. 

Let the government adopt the strongest measures, but let 
the scales be even. Let them go to the root of the matter; 
;ind first settle the rights of certain men, made of the same 
materials and subject to the laws of the same divine govern- 
ment, whose wisdom and justice is impartial. Let it deter- 
mine, if it can, why one man is put in possession of one 
hundred thousand acres of land, while another has not a 
loot ! That done, let it show why these lands are held in 
perpetual entailment, in defiance of the just claims of law- 
ful heirs and creditors. When that is done in a satisfactory 
manner, we will ascend to the branches, and work as 
busily as any other in cutting out suckers, lopping off dead 
limbs, and " ejecting" needless branches. I would respect- 
fully refer her majesty's government, and all friends of Ire- 
land, to the authority of the holy statute, especially to the 
commentary of St. Paul, found in 1st Cor. 12th chapter, for 
information on this subject. 

We have, in part, illustrated this subject, practically, in 
our country, and the institutions of our government rest 
upon a firm basis, because every body has an mterest in the 
government. Our greatest danger lies in our landless popu- 
lation, in slaves, and foreigners, who are made citizens on 
too easy terms, while yet strangers or alien to the principles 
of our government. We have not, however, tried what 
must be done in Ireland — the breaking up of feudal tenures, 
in order to remove wrongs and secure rights to the people. 
We have estates, the owners of which are already tyranni- 
cal, and would be more so but for the power of public opin- 
ion, which is little else than the concretion of what leads to 
" iniimidation" in this country. In our republic, law is but 
the expression of public sentiment. Here, it is the will of 



THE RADICAL CURE. 291 

the few, and those few not the common people, but a race 
or grade, which claims, not justice, nor merit, but heredi- 
tary and exclusive right, as the basis of all legislative and 
executive power. 

Now let these false claims be abolished ; let the estates 
so long abused by the favorites of the crown, be sold to pay 
the debts of a profligate nobility and gentry ; let them be 
bought by the government with the money now squandered 
on monster armies of soldiers and policemen, needful to 
keep the people in subjection, and be leased to the inhabitants 
under certain restrictions, or sold on easy conditions ; then 
let model farms and practical schools be established, which 
shall he, free, and I will venture, with such advantages, and 
all their disabilities removed, there would be no longer 
any cause to complain of Irish outrages, and Irish igno- 
rance, and Irish recklessness, and Irish indolence, and Irish 
bigotry, and Irish improvidence, and Irish turbulence, and 
Irish hatred of good government, and Irish ingratitude, and 
so on to the end of the long list of English complaints and 
accusations so constantly reiterated. 

I can not see why there is not as much propriety in such 
a course as there was in the boasted emancipation of West 
Indian slaves, by purchase and apprenticeship. Irishmen are 
of as much value to themselves, and to the world, and their 
life and liberty are as dear to them as they are to Africans. 
Wherefore, then, are they suffered to be ground to the earth 
with reuts and county-cess, and poor-rates, and tithes, till they 
can live no longer, and then be ejected from their miserable 
mud hovels, and left without food or shelter, to beg of other 
beings as wretched as themselves ? It is easy to complain 
of such a population, but all severity will be vain, till some 
steps are taken to awaken their ambition, and rouse their 
dormant energies, with a prospect of comfort and permanent 
prosperity before them. They will then toil and suffer as 
well as any people under heaven. 

The English are for ever complaining of the laziness of 
the Irish. We never txear that complaint in our country. 



292 WANT OF INDUCEiMENT 

With all the other sins laid to their charge — it is a rare 
thing to hear an Irish man or woman called lazy. They 
dig our canals, grade our railways, carry our hods, wash 
our clothes, cook our food, nurse our children, and do half 
the service of our country, out-doors and in, and no one 
heai's of their laziness. They may be called ignorant, 
bigoted, dirty, clannish, quarrelsome, drunken, improvident, 
all sorts of hard names, but never lazy. Nor would they 
be so at home, if there was any proper motive, any induce- 
ment for them to work. They harvest the crops of England, 
and do much domestic service, and no body complains so far 
as they know, that they do not work as well as the Eng- 
lish. It is only at home that they are called lazy. And 
there they do not work as faithfully as they might. But 
how can they ? They have been so often cheated, so long 
oppressed — robbed of their crops for rents, and taxes, and 
tithes, that they have lost all confidence in land-owners, 
their agents, and middle-men, and can have no heart to im- 
prove the land which they do not own, and can not lease, 
except from year to year. Who does not know, that even 
among the most enterprising farmers of America, there is 
no surer way to " run out a farm," — render it unproductive, 
than to rent it year after year. And this impoverishment 
of the soil is rendered more certain if it is sub-let in small 
tracts to different persons. Each wants to make what he 
can of it, and at as little outlay as possible. 

Such is the way of the world ; and why should it be 
thought a mark of unheard of stupidity and indolence, 
when Irish peasants are found in it ? Who blames them 
for refusing to lay out their strength upon lands to which 
they can have no claim ? Why should they drain bogs, 
and recover impoverished and waste lands, which can 
yield them no reward under two or three years ? It may 
be said, the landlord, finding them good tenants, would, of 
course, retain them. Perhaps he would — perhaps he 
would'nt ! In our country, not even the squatters on our 
new territories would subdue a patch of ground, if thev 



TO LIVE AND IMPROVE. 293 

did not know they should either purchase it by pre-emption 
right, or sell their " betterments" to some other man. Irish 
land-owners and their agents have become too cunning to 
give long leases to their tenants, for this very reason : that they 
would sell out their rights when a good offer was presented. 
They prefer to have their lands every year in the market, 
subject to the competition of a starved population, who 
have no other mode of subsistence. Forced by necessity, 
they will run up the rent to the highest pitch, hoping, by 
hard labor, a cheap diet, and kind Providence, to be able 
to pay it, with the other taxes, and have enough to keep 
their families alive. 

In this precarious way the people have been living for 
years, and when the potato rot destroyed the crops, and 
" free trade" reduced the price of grain, they had no more 
than enough to pay rents and taxes, and so were left to 
starve. As many as can, flee to America ; but multitudes 
have no means to get there, for they have no " lease" 
nor " tenant-right" to sell, nor credit to hire lands ; of 
course they can be ejected at the pleasure of the landlord, 
who has no motive, as in cases before noticed, to help ship 
them out of the country. He will not be at such needless 
expense, and so calls in the bailiff; with a posse of constables 
and policemen, and the work of eviction and destruction 
commences. The family is dragged or driven from the 
hut, the little amount of miserable furniture thrown into 
the street, and the building levelled to the ground. Some 
times the thatched roofs are set on fire, and the naked 
walls left, as we saw whole streets of them at Kinsale, on 
the day of our landing. The work is carried on till a 
whole village is depopulated, fifty or a hundred houses torn 
down, and four or five hundred persons turned into the 
world, without house, or home, or food, or friend.* 

* " It was a piteous spectacle, on Thursday, in the midst of the pouring 
rain, to see children led by their parents out from their houses into the street^ 
to see mothers kneel down on the wet ground, and, holding their children 
up to heaven, beg relief from the Almighty, and strength to endure their 

25* 



294 OUTRAGES, THE NATURAL RESULT. 

Now, I put it to any one, wrong as it may be, whether 
it is very strange that disorder and outrages should pre- 

afflictions. The cries of bereaved mea and women, running half frantic 
through the streets, or cowering from the rain and wind under the shelter of 
their poor furniture, piled confusedly about, were affecting in the extreme. 
To see, amid all this misery, ten or twelve burly ruffians from Nenagh, assail- 
ing the houses with crow-bars, and to hear their cries of exultation as a wall 
yielded to their assaults, or a roof tumbled down with a crash, the spectator 

should be callous, that could avoid being greatly affected by the scene 

I should suppose that the entire number turned out of their houses on Thurs- 
day would reach one hundred and fifty families, or six hundred individuals. 
Of this number I could learn that about thirty families, or, on an average of 
four to each family, about one hundred and twenty persons were to be allowed 
other dwelling4 in the village. So that four hundred and eighty persons, or 
one hundred and twenty families, would thus appear to be thrown on the 
' waves of the world,' as some of the unfortunate people themselves stated.it. 
I won't attempt to describe what was indescribable — the goul-harrowing con- 
dition of the poor wretches in the wigwams, at the time I was leaving Too- 
mevara, eight o'clock in the evening." — Tipperary Vindicator. 

" The practice of depopulating whole neighborhoods, in emulation of the 
example so lately set by the Hon. and Rev. Massy Dawson, has been again 
resorted to, this week, by the Hon. Col. Sewell, according to whose ukase, 
his agent, Mr. John Kelly, of Woodmount, levelled fifty-six houses at 
Creggs, near Ballygar, in this county. Fifty-six families turned out, roofless 
and foodless, to perish by the way-side, without a single penny from the Hon. 
Colonel to provide even a single meal on their melancholy exodus." 

" The work of extermination is proceeding, with all its concomitant hor- 
rors, throughout this unfortunate country. I have just heard that two hundred 
persons have been cast out from the Dawson property, in the Glen of Aher- 
low, and a very large number cleared out from no less than seven properties 
in the neighborhood of Slievenamon." 

The Archbishop of Tuam says : " On the morning of last Saturday, on 
setting out from Headsford, the corpse of a young man, who died of hunger 
on the preceding night, was seen stretched on the road -side. I saw the scenes 
of eviction and desolation, as I traversed the parish to the shores of Lough 
Corrib. I could not believe that any one parish could exhibit so many monu- 
ments of heartless cruelty. It is no wonder if death, in every form of disease 
and starvation, followed in the train of this depopulating system. The mis- 
ery, however, was deepening as we advanced, and the wretchedness of the 
poor of this remote and much-neglected region is such that I will not occupy 
the time, nor harrow the feelings of the reader by its description." 

" In the Kilrush Union, county of Clare, several of the evicted tenantry 
are living in turf-pits, scooped out of the bogs, and covered in at the top with 
some branches of trees. From these cavities the smoke, at times, is seen as- 
cending, and the passer-by would hardly have known that the bog was inhab- 



OF NEGLECT AND ABUSE. 



295 



prevail among a people so circumstanced ? It certainly is 
no new thing under the sun, which should be seized upon 
in justification of the stringent measures invoked from the 
government, to slaughter this people indiscriminately. I 
can very well understand why these miserable beings in- 
timidate and kill the men who are the apparent cause of 
their sufferings. It is wrong, as I have before said, but it 
is not strange, nor very unnatural, as the world goes. 
Landlords, and agents, and middle-men, and society, and 
governments have sins to answer for, as well as starved 
and exasperated tenants, who scarcely know their right 
hand from their left. The papers teem with allusions to 

ited by a subterranean population. In one locality there are as many as 
twenty of these bog-dungeons, with families in them. Your correspondent 
lately heard one of the highest employees of the poor-law staff give a dread- 
fully grapliic picture of the scene he had witnessed in Kilrush. He had got 
down into one of these bog- dungeons, in which a family were lying in fever, 
and he succeeded in moving some of them, but the odor of the place was so 
overpowering that he was compelled to retreat." 

" In the district of Dunharrow, on nearly all the properties of that barony, 
there is scarcely a sign of a human habitation, except in the dilapidated ruins 
of what, at no distant day, were happy homes. The Derry Castle, and the 
CoumbecT, and several other properties, are almost altogether depopulated. It 
is melancholy to pass through the country, and see none of those evidences 
of life which a few years ago cheered the traveler, and made him rejoice at 
the appearance of the people. Between Nenagh and Cloughjordan-a dis- 
tance of about six miles-nearly all the houses have been tumbled down, and 
that line of road presents an equally gloomy and terrible aspect. Between 
CloughjordanandBorrisokane.theRev. Mr. Trench ejected forty families, 
comprising about two hundred and fifty souls, from the property called Forty 
Acres The houses are removed-a fence wall has been bmlt around the 
property by the stones that were taken from those houses ! A Mr. Ely has 
ejected and tumbled down the houses of a great number of persons also m 
the =ame district ; but the houses are left standing, and seem as if they were 
the DEBRIS left after the cannonading of some hostile army. Between Borr>s- 
okane and Nenagh, the work of destruction has also been progressing, to 
«ome extent. It sickens the heart when one looks upon the country-deso- 
late as if the scythe of death had mowed down the population. Miles may be 
traveled, and scarcely a human being can be seen, except some tottering starve- 
lincr endeavoring to make his way to the relieving officer ! In many places 
the'poorarelivingonnettles, which they endeavor to bite and eat; and m 
other places they drain the streams of water-cresses to appease the ravages 

of hunger." 



296 HOW THE COUNTRY MAY IMPROVE. 

threats and executions, which are too common to need de- 
scription, and which indicate a horrible state of society, 
more fearful than on the frontiers of our western territo- 
ries, along the borders where civilization and barbarism 
meet. 

Without wishing to excuse, in the least, the wickedness 
of such conduct, or to exculpate the })Oor, oppressed, 
evicted tenants from the responsibility due to such enor- 
mous guilt, I would give my readers a view of the other 
side of the picture. This I can do best by quoting from 
the work before alluded to, though I had ocular demonstra- 
tion of the correctness of the descriptions given ; not only 
on the estates alluded to, but also on others which I visited. 
I quote without respect to arrangement, simply to prove 
the fact I wish to establish ; viz. : that a large share of the 
responsibility of Ireland's misery or improvement lies at 
the door of the nobility and gentry — the land-owners ; that 
when the tenant is well used he improves ; when he is abused 
and treated as a slave, he is lazy, ignorant, miserable, re- 
vengeful, outrageous ; and, hence, that the only hope of the 
redemption of the country from its present degradation, is 
by attaching the people to the land by some legal enact- 
ment, which will give them security, and encourage them 
to make an effort to improve their own condition, perma- 
nently. 

Mr. Michael Murphy, miller, of Dunimark, says — " I am acquainted with 
many cases in which the tenantry on the estate of the Earl of Kenmare, have 
been hardly, indeed very cruelly treated, and subjected to arbitrary exactions, 
by a person employed as under agent of that nobleman The terms of let- 
ting is generally from year to year The effect of this mode of tenure is 

to make the tenants completely subservient to their landlords, and to place 
them in subjection to the persons employed under these landlords, to a degree 
scarcely credible to those unacquainted with the fact from actual knowledge 
and experience. It has also the effect of rendering the tenantry utterly careless 

about improving their condition I have not the slightest doubt that, if the 

land was properly cultivated, the population would not be too great in the 
barony, if it was three times its present number." 

" Wm. Neale, a tenant, swears that his rent under a middle-man was in- 
creased by Lord Kenmare's agent, from £18, 10s. to jC30, on the lease falling 



GRIEVANCES. 297 

in ; and that he could not pay the rent, and was turned out without being allowed 
any thing for the improvements he had made ; moreover, that he was com- 
pelled to BRIBE the driver, or bailiff, by giving £5, and that the tenantry gene- 
rally paid him bribes." — p. 408. 

Rev. Thomas Barry, the Roman Catholic priest, is asked — " Have there 
been any cases of extensive removals of tenantry in the district ? — Yes, the 
most brutal. Recently 1 — Yes, there have been mstances within this year. 
Were tho.?e persons tenants who had previously paid their rent regularly ? — 
Yes, and were willing to pay to the last." — Ibid. 

" Mr. W. 0' Sullivan complains that he was turned out of the land on vi^hich 
he was born, that a higher rent was put upon it, and the new tenant was broken 
in two years. That there is a ' regular system of oppression' practiced by the 
driver under Mr. Galeway, and ' cows, sheep, and money, and every thing is 
given to him' as bribes." — Ibid. 

" Mr. C. H. Donovan complains that he laid out £200 in building a house 
on some land. He was asked £10 more rent, which he was unable to pay, 
and was turned out without any compensation." — p. 409. 

Mr. John O'Connell, land-owner, says — " I know that all the land in the 
country is over-let. The land can not bear at present what is put upon it. 
The people pay too much for their land — that I am ready to admit as a land- 
lord. I am sorry to say, we expect too much Such is the competition 

for land that ' if £40 be asked for land worth only £10, there will be twenty 

applicants for it I have a property that came into my hands about fifteen 

years ago — about seven hundred acres — a fee-simple property. They were 
the most refractory men in the country, prize-fighters, and the head of a fac- 
tion ; they paid no rent — they got into arrear. It was the estate of Lord 
Riversdale. I bought the property and sent for them immediately, and squared 
accounts ; they owed four years' rent ; I forgave them three and commenced 
with one year, and they are paying me one-half year's rent m hand. They are 
paying the original rent still, and there are not now in this country a more com- 
fortable class of tenantry ; and instead of being in the public-house, and at 
fairs and markets fighting, they are well clothed, and every man has a slated 

house and barn, where there was nothing but poverty and indigence I 

know that those who hold by lease are becoming industrious, and making 
money." — p. 411. 

Mr. Richard White, landed proprietor, says — " I came into this country de- 
termined to pursue a totally diffijrent system to any landlord, which was to give 

an ENCOURAGING LEASE for three lives Since I have done so, (assisted his 

tenants personally,) I have not made a distress upon my estate, nor turned out 
a man ; and I am perfectly convinced that my estate has not only doubled, but 
trebled itself, in value, in the last eighteen years ! I am satisfied, if the land- 
lords would give leases to their tenants, and if it was the fashion to do it, there 
is a great deal of misforture in the country that would not exisit." — p. 413. 

"I have before me the names of ten tenants, all with families, averaging six 
in afamily, six of whom have had actionsof ejectment commenced against them 
within the last three weeks, and the other four received notice to quit last rent 



298 EVICTIONS. 

day, not one of wohm owes a fraction" of rent. They don't know why 
they are turned out. This is on Lord Kenmare's property. These men and 
their families will necessarily resort either to Bantry, or to the comer of a 

bog, and become inhabitants of hovels and beggars Lord Kenmare is 

reputed to be a benevolent man ; and there may be a reason for turning these 
tenants out ; there is certainly the RIGHT to do it. But this is not the 
way to make Bantry a city of palaces, nor yet to have a thriving and contented 

people ; for these people must starve or do worse Is it not apparent, 

that NEGLECT and want of encouragement of the people had had much to do 
in making this country what it is ?" — Ibid. 

Mr. Crosby, landed proprietor, of Ardfert Abby, who expended £1,500 to 
improve his land, says — " I had districts of several hundred acres not worth 

Is. an acre, and they are worth 20s. now It is beneficial to myself, and 

immensely so to the peasantry, because it is immediately reproductive. The 
change from destitution and misery, and giving them good houses, was instan- 
taneous." — p. 375. 

Mr. Hurley, of Tralee, says — " I have a farm, which, for nine years, never 
paid me more than jC40 or £50 a year, and that was badly paid. I divided it> 
left it to the tenants, and set it at the full value of it, but gave them leases. . . 
The farm is now worth £200 a year, and as good cottier tenants as can be 
found any where ! . . . . There is too little preference shown to the occupying 
tenants, and that tends to prevent the proper intercourse between the landlord 
and the tenant in this country. They have not much faith in landlords, in my 
opinion." [Why should they have 1] — p. 378. 

Mr. J. Conner, farmer, says — " The impression upon my mind is, for I 
have experienced it, that if we improve, the improvements would go into the 
hands of competitors." — p. 379. 

Mr. W. Pope, farmer, says — " If an industrious tenant lays out money in 
improving, he will be charged thirty and forty per cent more rent than his 
neighbor !" — Ibid. 

" One or other of these two things a tenant has a right to expect, if he im- 
proves his land — either that his land shall be secured to him for a term of years 
sufficiently long to repay him for the money and labor he invests in it, or that 
he shall be paid for the value of the improvements he has effected in the land, 
if the landlord will not give him a lease, and chooses to terminate his tenancy 
and increase the rent. This is simply common justice ; for he has there in- 
vested his labor and money, not on his own land to benefit himself, but on his 
landlord's land to the benefit of his landlord. If a merchant employs a tailor 
to manufacture his bale of cloth into coats, the tailor, if the merchant refuse to 
pay him for his labor and skill, has his action against the merchant for the 
value of his work and labor. But if a landlord, or a middle-man, apeing 
landlord, employs a farmer to manufacture his bog into corn fields, or permits 
him to do it under a false pretence of security, that he shall repay himself for 
his labor, and then takes from him the corn-fields so manufactured without re- 
paying him, then has the tenant no action against his landlord for the value 
of his work and labor i^o expended. This constitutes the difference between 



LOCAL REFORM NEEDED. 299 

the law as regards merchants, and the law as regards landlords. The one 
must pay for permissive labor employed for his benefit, with cash down, or a 
check on his banker ; the other need only wipe off such little scores with 
a notice to quit, or an action of ejectment. The latter course has plainly an 
advantage over the former — that is, for the landlord. The landlords who 
HAVE THE (sole) PRIVILEGE OF MAKING THESE LAWS have always had a very 
clear perception that this was an advantage. But then the farmers are not 
quite so stupid as not to see that the scale is not quite even — that they peep 
through the other end of the telescope ; through the end the landlords peep the 
profits of the system are very considerably magnified to their advantage ; but 
taking the farmer's peep through the other end, shows the profits to be infini- 
tismally small, and the vision of probable advantage so minute and indistinct, 
and uncertain, and distant that the poor farmers, in despair, cease to manufac- 
ture bogs into corn-fields, and the landlords' bogs remain bogs, and repay both 
them and their tenants with bog-returns and bog-profits. This is but another 
elucidation of the adage, that after all, ' honesty is the best policy.' The sim- 
ple truth is, that this principle of landlord and tenant-law is not honest ; and 
its impolicy is seen in the bogs and wastes of Ireland, as well as in the dimin- 
ished supply and the want of demand." — pp. 405-7, 

My readers, by this time, must have a tolerable insight 
into the cause of the misery of the Irish people. They 
should remember that this is purely an agricultural country, 
that manufactures and commerce are not carried on to any 
great extent. The immense water-power, vastly superior 
to England, is unemployed, and the innumerable and excel- 
lent harbors are vacant of ships, or visited by those from 
foreign countries. The fisheries, which are abundant, are 
wofully neglected, and those carried on subject to the same 
difficulties as the land. The "hookers" are furnished by a 
set of jobbers who make all the profits, while the poor 
fisherman is barely able to get a subsistence of the meanest 
kind, of which we had a full demonstration on board the 
hooker which brought us on shore. 

I would recall an idea thrown out some pages back, 
touching the right to the soil, and the motive to prosperity. 
The author of the " Times Letters," who says many excel- 
lent things, and so far as facts are concerned, is, no doubt, 
generally reliable, has taken the liberal English view of 
every thing, He, in common with most others who have 
written on the subject, finds the main cause of Irish penury 



300 A FEE IN THE LAND. 

and suffering in the neglect of land-owners, middle-men, and 
lazy ignorant tenants. These are, no doubt, the apparent, 
but they are not the real cause of the evil. That is to be 
found back of all that has been unfolded. It lies in the fact 
that the people have no acknowledged, actual right to the 
soil, no fee in the land they cultivate, in the houses they 
rear, or the permanent improvements they make. 

We have seen that where the landlords are kind, and 
give long leases, teach the arts of improved agriculture, or 
pay their w^orkmen well, the people are contented, faithful, 
and happy. Such landlords are never threatened, after the 
injluence of their goodness is felt. But, as the scale as- 
cends, ambition may increase, and these tenants may wish 
to own their lands, to be free and independent — to be men 
among men. No such event is contemplated by the British 
laws of entail — of hereditary rights, and hence there is no 
motive, no feeling, which aspires above dependence and 
servitude. 

Can an American, familiar with the independence of our 
farmers, who own their lands, and pay but nominal taxes for 
the support of the government they make themselves, won- 
der at the destitution, misery, crime, and intimidation so 
common here ? He is never disturbed by the haughty 
agent of an absentee landlord, nor teazed and taunted by a 
domineering agent, or middle-man. He tills his own land, 
sleeps in his own cottage, " none to molest or make him 
afraid." He is a sovereign — a prince in his own palace, 
and, unless he is cursed with the ownership of more land 
than he needs, or with slaves, sees none around him but 
those he has engaged on mutual terms, at fair wages, rates 
which will enable them, in five years, to become farmers 
themselves. Blessed is the lot of the American farmer! 
He may be, so far as condition is concerned, the best, the 
happiest and most independent among men ! 

How can all the remedies England's philanthropists and 
statesmen have proposed, ever effect a radical cure of the 
enormous evils complained of, so long as the land is kept in 



THE RADICAL CURE. 301 

the hands of the few, and the masses are left in a state of 
dependence and servitude ? Not until human nature is 
changed can one man, who has a soul to feel, and a will to 
resolve, be forced by direct action, or incidental circum- 
stance, into a state of subjection to another like himself, 
and feel at peace ; and, until a man feels happiness, or sees 
it before him, he will not be satisfied, — he will not rest. 
Men, reduced to the rank of cattle, or made machines, with- 
out tvill, without ambition, without responsibility, may do 
any thing — but good. That they can not do ; for they have 
no power, no means. And it is no cause of wonder, if they 
occasionally break loose and, with brute force, take ven- 
geance on the head that oppresses them. The caged lion 
will growl and snarl, and devour if he can. The more there 
is of the man, the stronger is the love of liberty and right, 
the firmer his resolve to resist oppression. 

The turbulencfe of this population, shows that there is 
life-blood at the heart, struggling to circulate withoui im- 
pediment. The danger is that the circulation has been 
checked so long, that the fever has affected the brain, and 
that the English doctors will therefore think further deple- 
tion necessary. But that will only reduce the system lower, 
and render recovery less certain, unless followed with great 
care and suitable nourishment. 

I am glad Ireland is not dead, that the people breathe — 
some even for freedom, and that all sigh for a better state of 
things. I believe that day will come, not by rebellion ; for 
it is a vain method to attempt to overcome one evil by 
another ; but by a course of gradual amelioration, till rotten 
estates shall go into complete decay, as they are going at a 
rapid rate, and rotten lords be found a useless burden to the 
state, the right of primogeniture be abolished, with which 
the law of entail must fall ; and an open field and fair play 
be aflTorded to all. 

Then shall virtue and merit rise to a proper rank, and 
gilded indolence and vice receive a merited rebuke. In- 
dustry, honesty, and frugality shall be duly honored and 



302 A RADICAL COURSE 

recompensed, and the arrogance of fortuitous birth, and un- 
deserved distinction be hurled into disgrace. The kingdom 
of Heaven will then begin, and the church will be untram- 
meled in its career by needless splendors, and tithes upon 
poverty. The clergy will cease to be wolves in sheep's 
clothing, biting and devouring one another, and become 
what their office indicates, shepherds of the flock, servants 
of servants, to guide, and help, and bless, and save humanity. 
Every man will sit down under his own vine and fig-tree, 
and all will become kings and priests unto God. 

But I see no hope for Ireland without it. The repeal 
of the union can not effect it, neither can the actual inde- 
pendence of Ireland from English authority. A moral and 
social reform is needed. The tenure by which real estates 
is held must be chang-ed, the curses of rank must be 
abolished, the last trace of feudalism wiped out, and church 
and state divorced, before Ireland can become the home of 
prosperity and peace. Any approximation towards this end 
is so much gained. But the sore, to be cured permanently, 
must be healed from the bottom. It is not enough to 
lay emolients or irritants upon the surface. Probe to the 
bottom, doctors, and cauterize if need be. Don't under- 
take to heal it slightly, lest it break out, and slough more 
odiously and dangerously than before. Astringents may 
be needful in your opinion ; but apply them cautiously, lest 
you increase the inflammation. Do not bandage too tightly. 
As a disciple of Priesnilz and Jefferson, I would recom- 
mend pure, cool, simple remedies, great care in the diet, 
and a proper regard to free and unrestrained exercise in the 
open air, as fast as health will permit, always encouraging 
hope with the strongest assurance of ultimate and com- 
plete recovery. Under such a course of treatment, your 
armies and policemen might soon be disbanded, and your 
barracks, and your jails, and your poor-houses, be turned 
into homes of industry, plenty, and peace ; and on Ireland 
might be fulfilled, in a brief half century, the beautiful pro- 
phecy, " Swords shall be turned into ploughshares, and 



SHOULD BE PURSUED. 303 

spears into pruning-hooks, and the people learn war no 
more." 

But you say this is very fine in theory, but all imagina- 
tion ; and you point to past centuries to prove its impossi- 
bility. But hast thou no faith but in the past ? none in 
God and the future? Seest thou no cloud in the west, 
not even as big as a man's hand, portentous of good ? Thy 
works, O England, would seem to indicate that thou hast 
had no faith in Ireland, in times gone by, for one of thine 
own jurists has said, in words too true, that " You ?nai/ 
track Ireland through the statute book, as yoitd follow a 
wounded man through a croiod — by blood !" Thou hast 
not laid the axe at the root of the tree. Thy Williams, 
thy Henrys, thy James's, thy Elizabeth, thy Cromwell, and 
thy ministers since, even those of Irish birth — Castlereagh 
among them — have hated Ireland and abused it ; and thy 
church has robbed and oppressed it ; and thy whole gov- 
ernment has not been that of a " nursing father," but of an 
enemy, a conqueror ! Thou must mend thy ways, or Ire- 
land will rebel, if able, or emigrate, or else starve and rot. 

Thou hast the power, thou hast the wisdom ; try and get 
the will. Don't be afraid, I entreat you, of growling land- 
lords, or whining priests, or brawling politicians. Show 
thy live courage — not by blood and carnage ; thoushouldst 
be glutted with that already. Show the nobleness of the 
animal on the united banner, and let the shamrock blend 
with the rose and thistle upon the escutcheon of thy great- 
ness ! 

Change thy policy towards this noble, beautiful, but un- 
happy country. Thy philosophers are not afraid of experi- 
ments ; neither should thy statesmen be. Try one in the 
crucible of kindness, and see if Irishmen even, have no 
hearts, to melt in tears of gratitude — no pure metal, wrapt 
up in the alloy of a rough exterior. Abused and neglected 
as they have been, till they have come to hate and devour 
one an other, for which, in part, thou art responsible ; for 
thou hast encouraged Orangemen, and oppressed Catholics, 



304 A MUTUAL WORK. 

and done many naughty things. And yet, bad as thou hast 
helped to make them, we find Uttle difficulty with them in 
our country, except where they congregate in masses, and 
retain their old ideas and feelings. They serve us well in 
our kitchens, and stables, and fields, and mines, and stores, 
and ships, and farms. They dig our canals, and grade our 
railroads, through mountains and over vallies. They sit in 
our legislatures and courts, and they fill our armies and na- 
vies, as thou wilt have occasion to know, if any untoward 
circumstance should ever determine thee to war with us 
again. A few months' training suffices to make them 
about equal to Englishmen, in the wants and works of our 
country ; I mean, if they have had tolerable advantages at 
home. 

Thy cousins of the Emerald Isle are becoming an im- 
portant item in the constitution of our community. It 
would be well, then, if thou wouldst not send all thy poor- 
est and most ignorant to us, but be generous, and help in 
this work of education. We will do what we can, and 
thou must do what thou canst, what thou so much neglect- 
est ; for we remember whence we sprang, and it will not 
be good in us to disown the children whom our " mother" 
(country) refuses to own and nurse. But, having grown 
somewhat older since thou didst play the tyrant and disin- 
herit us — in knowledge, power, and wealth — we will take 
what thy inability and old age will not allow thee to do, 
and provide for them. Yea, we will take thy rebels, if 
thou pleasest — not all thy mean men — thy gamblers and 
burglars, as we are wont ; we have too many of them 
already — but thy political agitators, and disturbers of thy 
political peace — thy O'Briens, and Mitchels, and Meaghers. 
Thou needst not manacle them, and be at the trouble of 
sending a ship to carry them to Botany Bay. Just put them 
on board a transit ship and send them to us. We have 
use for them, and do not fear, so be they keep out of one 
State, which had thy charter for a guide till a few years ago. 
Every where else they may go in peace. I do entreat 



CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME, 305 

thee, be kind <and Christian to thy children once, on this 
side the channel, and see if they will not be good. Don't 
set tlie elder against the younger, by primogeniture rights, 
for God, even under the old law, some times reversed it. 
Jacob, and Joseph, and David were not the eldest of their 
fathers' children. In the new, " we are all one" — alike in 
Christ. 

Thou wilt find no lack for thy humane efforts, if thou 
wilt lay off the goggles of thy nobility, and look at things 
as they are. Both priest and statesman, school-master and 
manufacturer, farmer and mechanic, may be busy in better 
work than grinding swords, building prisons, forging chains, 
and writing homilies. These laws may be made just and 
equal, these souls may be saved, these minds may be edu- 
cated, these rivers turned upon the wheels, and spindles 
set a-going, these bogs drained, mountain lands tilled, and 
worn lands improved. Here is a broad field for thy phi- 
lanthropy, without troubling thyself about South Carolina 
and Georgia. The free States will take care of American 
slavery, and it is better for thee to work humanely nearer 
at home. We have heard thy advice, and like it, and give 
thee this in return, with the hope it may do thee some good, 
and make thee love thy Irish children better, and do them 
less harm, and more good ! 



CHAPTER X. 

THE UPPER SHANNON. 

Killaloe. — Lough Derg. — Landing Passengers. — Monopolies. — Holy Islands. 
—Personal and Moral Beauty. — English Ability to Help Ireland. — Por- 
tumna. — Ancient and Modern Works. — Redwood Castle. — Victoria 
Locke. — A Beautiful Spot. — Bennagher. — War Establishment.— English 
Policy. — The Question of Natural Rights. — Paying Priests. — Monaste- 
ries. — Something Better. — Shannon Harbor. 

Killaloe has a poetic name, a romantic and beautiful lo- 
cation, and many legendary reminiscences of Irish valor 

26* 



306 KILLALOE. 

and magnificence. It was the central residence of Brian 
Boroihme, the great hero and monarch of Irish patriotism. 
It has little else to boast of. The quays along the river, 
and the new pier at which the steamboats land, show some 
signs of life and business ; but every thing else bears the 
stamp of time, neglect, and poverty. The buildings, gen- 
erally, are old and dilapidated. Rows of small, low cabins 
are strung along the elevated ground, without much respect 
to order — in true Irish style. A few decent buildings are 
seen near the business part, and several really elegant man- 
sions in the neighborhood. Among the latter, I noticed 
particularly the diocesan seat, or " palace of the Bishop," 
called Clarisford House. It is a good mansion, surrounded 
with elegant and shady grounds, which reach to the bank 
of the river and line of the canal, for some distance. The 
Bishop of Killaloe lives here in great splendor, with a large 
income, and little to do.* 

On the opposite or Tipperary side, is Brian's fort, once a 
strong fortification, commanding this important pass be- 
tween the north and south. It is no longer of any con- 
cern, for Connaught, and Leinster, and Munster, are no 
longer separate kingdoms, with opposing interests, but are 
alike crushed and suflering beneath the oppressor's power. 
Neither can the heroes of Munster meet here, to oppose the 
intrusion of English invaders, as in the days of King Wil- 
liam, when Sarsfield intercepted the reinforcement coming 
to the siege of Limerick. 

The long bridge which crosses the Shannon, to the vil- 
lage of Ballina, is an object of some curiosity, on account 

* " An extract from the return of probate-wills, made to the British 
House of Commons in 1832, shows that Beresford, Abp. of Tuam, left 
i;250,000 ; Fowler, Abp. of Dublin, ^^400,000 ; Cleaver, Bp. of Ferns, 
£50,000 ; Porter, Bp. of Clogher, £230,000 ; Knox, Bp. of luUaloe, 
£100,000 ; Bernard, Bp. of Limerick, £G0,000 ; Hawkins, Bp. of Raphoe, 
£20n,(i()0 ; that is an average of £188,750 for each of these Protestant 
priests, after supporting their families in splendor during their lives, and 
this from the poorest people in Christendom ; and that, too, the great 
mass being not of their ovvn communion." 



ITS ROMANTIC SITUATION. 307 

of its numerous arches. But the cathedral most attracted 
our attention. It is an ancient building, of massive pro- 
portions, and, from its commanding position, becomes a 
more prominent object than any other, except the mauso- 
leum of the famous Brian Boroihme, which is a pile with- 
out symmetry or beauty, designed to mark the last resting- 
place of Ireland's most honored chieftain. Above the vil- 
lages, on the west side, is an elegant villa, occupying an 
elevated and romantic site, on the shores of the lake, back 
of which rises Slievebernagh, a lofty hill, which looks down 
upon this charming lake, and commands an extensive view 
of the counties of Limerick, Clare, Gal way, Tipperary, and 
far up and down the valley of the Shannon. On the op- 
posite side is Derry castle, on a bold projection of the Arra 
mountains, which border this part of the lake, the elegant 
mansion of some grandee. Back of this, to the north, the 
mountains rise precipitously nearly two thousand feet, and 
are said to contain valuable quarries of slate, which are 
extensively and profitably worked. I saw large quantities 
piled about the quays, indicative of considerable business 
in that line. 

The scenery in this region is very fine. The beautiful 
valley through which the Shannon hurries its winding way, 
with broad plains on either side, with here and there a wooded 
hill, and the far off" ranges in the distance, bounded by Slieve 
Pheling, Devil's Bit, Gottymore, and others of equal grandeur 
on the north, by the lofty mountains which approach to the 
very shores of the lake, just at its outlet ; then the calm, clear 
waters spreading off to the north, with sinuosities pene- 
trating far into the sides of the rugged mountains which 
border its shores — every thing is pleasing, varied, and ro- 
mantic. I remarked to m}^ friends that the old Irish must 
have been a poetic race, for they always chose the most 
beautiful and romantic spots for their castles and towns. 
This might have been caused by another motive — the 
strength of the positions, and the ease with which a castle 
could I e built sufficiently strong to resist opposing clans. 



308 A BEAUTIFUL DEMESNE. 

These strong holds are in narrow passes, on projecting 
cliffs, isolated rocks, or narrow necks or points of land, 
where the feudal lord could congregate his vassals, and 
defend himself from the missiles of assailing enemies. 
The introduction of gunpowder rendered these castles use- 
less defences, and they have gone into ruin. But the vil- 
lages about them remain, and indicate more, perhaps, the 
love of life, clannish arrogance, and good engineering, than 
an innate, poetic admiration of natural beauty. 

Two or three steamers were lying at the pier, not far 
from the landing of the canal boat. A crowd of ragged 
men and boys were huddled about, in waiting to beg, or 
get a job, the former being far the most energetic in the 
prosecution of their business. We conveyed our own 
baggage to the steamer, in republican style, somewhat to 
the dissatisfaction of the scores who strove to take it from 
us. We had here a sample of urgent haste, such as some 
times characterizes our own countrymen, when about to 
leave a boat. A woman was anxious to get on shore be- 
fore the narrow plank was laid on the bows of the boat, 
by which, with great care, we were barely able to get to 
the land with dry feet. Either misjudging her strength or 
the distance, she leaped into the shoal water, and splashed 
about like a sturgeon just caught, much to the amusement 
of the company on shore, who laughed heartily at her mis- 
fortune. 

Some distance up the lake, we passed an elegant de- 
mesne, on a beautiful and extensive point of land, which 
penetrates some distance into the water, and sweeps back, 
in rich undulations, towards the dark summits of the Arra 
mountains. It is a lovely spot, and, in appearance, the 
abode of rural prosperity and comfort. But all the beau- 
ties of nature are sadly marred in this unhappy land. 
There are few spots in this woi'ld, I have ever seen, more 
highly blessed by nature, and none made so miserable by 
the wrongs and imprudence of man, for whose happiness 
it was so elegantly fitted up. This lake is a beautiful sheet 



LOUGH DERG. 309 

of water, and this estate a most charming location ; but its 
very beauty is made odious by the surrounding misery. 
The extensive park, lined v^^ith a variety of elegant trees, 
with herds of deer grazing on the lawn, the long, shady 
avenues leading to the mansion, and the rich fields beyond, 
are all attractive, grand, and tasteful ; but how can a heart, 
capable of appreciating the loveliness of such a spot, enjoy 
it, while starvation is staring, with envious eyes, and po- 
verty and hatred lie groaning and grumbling under the 
walls ? 

Mere wealth, and power, and splendor can avail nothing 
towards genuine happiness, while the very position occupied 
is the source of misery to others. Pride can not fully blind 
the heart ; neither can success in the prosecution of selfish 
ends, silence the claims of our better nature which solicit 
another's good. Haman was not happy Vv^hile Mordecai sat 
at the king's gate Irish nobles and gentry, whether of 
Celtic or Gothic extraction, are ill at ease amid the scenes 
of wretchedness they have themselves helped to produce 
or perpetuate. I do not wonder that they live abroad, and 
rarely come here to look upon their estates, if for nothing 
but to forget, if possible, the wickedness of their own ne- 
glect, and the sight of misery their own luxuries have caused. 

1 feel sad as I pass over this beautiful lake, and look upon 
the varied and fertile shores, and think of the vast resources 
of this poverty stricken nation. Every thing wears a som- 
bre appearance, and I can not be cheerful. There is a chord 
which links humanity together, which, like the telegraphic 
wire, once touched, communicates its message to the heart. 
It would not be well to resist this influence if we could. 
By shutting out the rays of light, we may not see the dust 
in the room ; but it is there, nevertheless, and, added to its 
own evil, we deny ourselves the counteracting influences, 
we might otherwise obtain. I am glad that I am here ; that 
I have seen what I have ; that I know what I do of the 
dark phases of human nature, which can never be learned 
at home. 



310 HANDSOME SHORES. 

Lough Derg is some twenty miles long. It is twenty-five 
miles from Killaloe to Portumna, but these towns are a mile 
or two from the lake. Its breadth is various, from three or 
four, to eight or ten miles. A wide bay puts off to the 
west, at the head of which is ScarifF in Clare ; another 
nearly opposite, towards Nenagh, the chief town in the 
north riding of Tipperary. These form the widest part of 
the lake. The shores are deeply indented, and at the south 
end, abrupt and broken. Farther up the lake the shores are 
more level, and said to be capable of the highest cultivation. 
The hills rise more gradually and their summits are less ele- 
vated and more distant. Deep and beautiful valleys approach 
to the lake from the back country, and add greatly to thp> 
picturesqueness of the scenery. There are no villages of 
much consequence immediately on the borders of the lake ; 
but old dilapidated castles are seen in abundance, in all 
directions on every jutting headland, and in almost every 
secure and beautiful spot. The names of several of these, 
and the legends connected with them, are given me as we 
pass along, but few of them I care to remember. I have no 
reverence for feudalism in any shape, but it is well to know 
something of what has been, that we may learn to appreciate 
what is. 

We have just landed some passengers at Dromineer, the 
port of Nenagh, the boats coming off a long distance to 
effect the exchange. This must be dangerous business in 
rough weather, and to us appears very unaccommodating. 
I remember when little boats used to be sent out by a line 
to land passengers at the villages along the Hudson. We 
should now call that an awkward and dangerous operation. 
But here there is little enterprise, and no opposition. Pub- 
lic carriers consult their own interest, and the people must 
submit to any inconvenience. A stage never takes up nor 
leaves passengers, except at their own offices — often in a 
stable-yard, and steamboats land their passengers into 
small boats, and an extra charge is charged for taking them 



THE BLESSING OF FREEDOM. 311 

on shore. A company which ^should practice thus in our 
country, need never make a second trip. 

Such is the working of freedom and monarchy. With 
us the peojile rule, and companies and statesmen must serve 
the public. Here monopoHes rule, and the people must sub- 
mit. With one all is animation, cheerfulness, readiness to 
serve, freedom to enjoy, and equality of feeling ; with the 
other, dullness, sycophancy, haughtiness, inoroseness — a sort 
of " Do this, or go to the devil," as one man expressed it. 
The evils of an aristocratic government may be seen and 
fell in all ranks of society, but in nothing more than in the 
social condition of the people. I thank my God that I was 
born in a free country, and bred up under democratic insti- 
tutions ; where every man is a unit, and self-dependent for 
success ; and where the natural, equal and indefeasible 
rights of all men are tolerably well understood and regarded, 
and where each man is held responsible for the defence of 
his own, and the invasion of another's. Corporations with 
us can not rise above individual privileges; and, though 
soulless, are alike responsible to the popular will, for their 
conduct and their existence. They may, for a time, play 
a blind game, and deceive the community, and bias the go- 
vernment, but a day of retribution always overtakes them. 
In freedom, the right and good, alone can stand in perma- 
nence, as, in the light, truth only can appear with safety. 

At some distance on our left, we passed the Holy Islands 
situated in ScarifF bay, not far from the north shore. On 
one of them is an ancient round tower, and near it a pile 
of ruins are to be seen. The island appears to be low and 
level, and of small dimensions. It is called Irish coltra, the 
Holy Island, or Seven Churches, and was formerly one of 
the "stations" to which pilgrimages were made by the 
Catholics to do penance and obtain the forgiveness of their 
sins. There were seven churches built upon it, besides the 
round tower. Connected with this was St. Patrick's Pur- 
gatory, where the more wicked and obstinate were put 
through a severe course of training till submission was pro- 



312 HOLY ISLAND. 

duced and absolution merited. Tiiis " station" was once 
as much celebrated as that on Lough Derg, in Donnegal.* 
Several passengers assured me that it is still visited by 
many pilgrims who come here to do penance for their sins. 
One of them is a gentleman of great respectability, who is 
familiar with this region, having been often to the island 
and distributed many comforts among the people. I pity 
the poor creatures who are so blinded by ignorance, but I 
do not marvel at their folly. I have seen enough, in the do- 

* " The lake covers two thousand one hundred and forty acres ; its shores 
are wild and dreary ; and its principal islets are Inish-goosh — Saint's Island, 
and Station Island, or St. Patrick's Purgatory ; even these are very small ; and 
the remainder, which seem to break and vary the surface of its dark waters, are, 
with few exceptions, mere groups of rock. On Saint's island are the remnants 
of a priory. This island, in remote ages, was the resort of pilgrims, and con- 
tained the original Patrick's Purgatory. The place of the penance is now, and 
has been for several centuries, on Station Island, which is half a mile from the 
shore of the lake. It is less than an acre in extent, and contains, in addition 
to two small chapels, one of which is appropriated to penitents, a house for the 
officiating priests, and a few cabins. In spite of the prohibitory edicts of 
several of the popes and orders of the Irish privy council in former days for 
its suppression, it has maintained its celebrity ; and the numbers who still an- 
nually flock hither to expiate their offences, from the 1st of June to the 15th 
of August, are variously stated at from ten to fifteen thousand. One thing is 
certain that the ferry which was long rented at ^£300 per annum, now pays 
jCIGO." — Fraser's Hand Book, p. 532. 

" On the pilgrims first landing in the island, they pay a toll of sixpence half- 
penny each to the prior for the right to land. They are then taken to a corner 
of the island, where a roughly made stone cross, with some almost obliterated 
figures carved upon it is elevated. Round this is a pathway of small sharp stones, 
which seemed tracked by being walked over. Round this cross, the pilgrims are 
made to walk barefoot nine times, repeating a number of prayer.^ They are then 
ushered into the largest chapel, which is called the ' prison,' where they must 
fast and pray through the whole of the first night of their landing. They are 
warned against falling asleep, as they are taught that to do so will bring on them 
the displeasure of God, and will be punished with purgatory The morn- 
ing after the pilgrim's arrival, he or she has to confess to one of the priests — a 
shilling fee is charged for the confession, though often more is given. Then 

comes the performance of penances The pilgrims, for one penance, are 

made to walk nine times round the pathway round the cross, barefooted, over 
sharp stones ; and, according to their penance, they are made to walk or 
crawl a certain number of times on their bare knees, men and women — round 
the outside of the circular erection of stones." — Condition of the people of 
Ireland, p. 32. 



PAUPERISM OF MOUNT SHANNON. 313 

ings even of Protestant?, in our own country, to admonish 
me to deal charitably with a weak brother, on whose soul 
still sits the incubus of misbelief and superstition. " Lord, 
help thou our unbelief." 

This border of the lake is exceedingly beautiful. The 
ground ascends gradually from the water's edge, up Slieve 
Aughta, till it attains the height of more than one thousand 
feet, at the distance of three or four miles. The hills trend 
off westward, in rich, swelling slopes, and are covered with 
pasture-fields, and their bases dotted over with cottages, the 
size and character of which, from this distance, are not 
discernible, but appear remarkably pleasant, as if the 
abodes of plenty and contentment. I was just now giving 
vent to my admiration of this grand landscape, when the 
gentleman before alluded to cooled my enthusiasm, by in- 
forming me that there is scarcely a place in all Ireland 
where the people are so completely destitute and wretched. 

Soon after, an other gentleman was introduced to me, 
who is coming from Limerick, to distribute a quantity of 
Indian meal, and other provisions, among the inhabitants 
of Mount Shannon who are in a state of penury and star- 
vation. He assures me he has been there frequently, on the 
same errand of mercy, in behalf of a society of Friends, 
and that, although a county richer in the sources of plenty 
and comfort can scarcely be found, the welfare of the peo- 
ple has been so grossly neglected, that no scenes of desti- 
tution more complete can be seen in any part of the 
kingdom. The people are ignorant, the lands neglected, 
on account of exorbitant rents, and the cruelty of the land- 
lord's agent, so that there is neither motive nor means for 
improvement. 

Before landing, he invited us to accompany him to 
Mount Shannon, and one of our party accepted the invita- 
tion, with whom we have just parted. For myself, I have 
no longer a heart to look upon the squalor of this wretched 
population, while 1 lack the means to afford them relief. I 
have seen enough of their misery, heard enough of their 

27 



314 A NOBLE FAMILY. 

wrongs, felt enough of suppressed anger towards the aris- 
tocrats, who live in great pomp on the blood and sweat of 
this wretched people, by royal right, as if God had made 
them better than others. Right here, we are passing a 
splendid mansion, surrounded by all the tokens of wealth 
and pride ; and gayly dressed ladies are standing upon the 
shore, under wide-spreading shade trees, waving their ker- 
chiefs to us as we pass. This is an Irish family, I am told, 
but one of those formerly bought into the English interest 
by the gift of a lai'ge tract of land and several thousand 
pounds in ready money, which has kept the descendants 
loyal ever since, and ready to carry forward the war of exter- 
mination against the wretched peasantry of this part of 
Galway county. But how a family, of cultivated minds 
and christian hearts, can be satisfied to live as they do, in 
the midst of beggary and ignorance, made so and kept so 
by their own will and neglect, it is easy to inquire. I am 
told, this is a Christian family, well educated in all the 
blandishments of fashionable life, and greatly respected in 
a wide circle of notable families of the nobility and gentry, 
both here and in England ; but how they can be happy, or 
endure to live with the wrongs and evils of their position 
and neglect so obvious all about them, is more than I can 
comprehend. It would seem that the first breathing of a 
Christian heart would be to seek out a remedy for the mise- 
ry about them, to clothe, and feed, and educate these ne- 
glected children, to teach the parents how to manage their 
patches of ground to the best advantage, to slacken the 
stringency of the rents, tithes, and taxes, to give them ex- 
amples of justice, industry, and benevolence, and so begin a 
work of mercy and reform, which would secure for them the 
poor man's blessing and the orphan's prayer. They surely 
can not be wanting in the adequate knowledge to begin 
such a scheme of improvement, for they have Bibles, and 
can read them : they have eyes, and must see ; hearts, and 
ought to feel ; or else they ought to renounce the name of 



CHRISTIAN KEaUIREMExNTS. 315 

Christian, and turn infidel to all the claims of a common 
humanity. 

I am told the family living here are, personally, remarka- 
bly handsome ; that the young ladies, especially, are re- 
nowned for their fine forms and beautiful faces. Be it so, 
what does it all avail if there are wanting the mind and 
heart — the moral beauty, to correspond ? The gay, and 
thoughtless, and unprincipled may admire, and applaud, and 
flatter, and betray. But true beauty, like true greatness, 
comes from a pure heart, and shows itself by acts of good- 
ness, and words of wisdom. God looks upon the heart, 
judges motives, and bestows happiness — the reward of 
merit — only where it is deserved. Personal beauty is 
always to be admired, but never praised, except as God's 
gift. To appear well, the possessor should always be un- 
conscious of the possession. 

A fearful responsibihty rests upon those whose social po- 
sition and ability afford such a favorable opportunity to 
labor for the temporal and spiritual good of others. And, 
as God reigns, a day of reckoning will come, when the 
rich, and wise, and powerful, shall be held to account for 
their treatment of the poor, and weak, and ignorant, who 
have suffered at their hands. God's word is full of instruc- 
tion upon these points, both in the Old and in the New Testa- 
ments ; and I marvel that a strong nation, whose Queen is 
the head of the Church, does no more to relieve the op- 
pressed and guide the ignorant ; that a church, whose Pon- 
tiff is God's vicegerent on earth, has no more affection for 
its children than to let them starve, while its dignitaries 
live in splendor, and devote their principal attention to 
forms of faith and gorgeous processions ; and that a gen- 
try which boasts of its gallantry, and intelligence, and reli- 
gion, are perfectly case-hardened; that the wail of their 
starving tenantry awakens no feeling of humanity in their 
breasts. In this age of reform, and progress, and exten- 
sive benevolent operations, while sea and land are tra- 
versed to convert the heathen and proselyte schismatics, 



316 MISAPPLIED PHII-ANTimOPY. 

and thousands and millions poured out annually, to carry 
forward the works of benevolence, that Ireland is so sadly 
neglected, and thousands of her children dying of starva- 
tion every year, while the land is less than half cultivated. 
We live in an anomalous age. Great Britain gives, annually, 
nearly fifty million of dollars for the support of its established 
clergy, and more than all other Christian nations put to- 
gether, while the ratio of hearers attending its ministry, as 
compared with others, is as one to thirty-two ! Much of 
this immense revenue is derived by tithes obtained from 
those who, from conscience, refuse to hear its preaching ; 
and not an inconsiderable portion is wrenched from the 
poor starved tenants, by the distraining process, after pay- 
ing their own clergy. Besides this, thousands are spent 
annually for missionary, and other benevolent operations, in 
foreign lands, while a million of their own people, whom 
they are bound, by every legal and moral obligation, to 
protect, are dying for want of the commonest necessaries 
of life at home, and often unprovided with a decent burial. 
England is conquering the Sikhs, humbling the Chinese, 
contending about barren mountains on the borders of the 
Pacific, sending expeditions to explore the North-west 
Passage, and buying up West Indian negroes, for liberty, 
but the starving poor of Galway are left to the tender mer- 
cies of the agents of bankrupt landlords ! England boasts 
of her power, and wealth, and honor, and nobleness, and 
Christianity, and benevolence, and wisdom, and yet can not 
find out how to remedy the evils of Ireland ! Marvellous ! 
We have just passed the island of lUuanmore, in the 
center of this lake, near enough to see some old ruins, 
which we are told are the remains of a church abbey, 
built in the 7th century, by Saint Comir, and that several 
ecclesiastics, celebrated for their zeal and learning, for- 
merly resided here. The island is as beautifully situated 
as ever, but it no longer bears the marks of industry and 
thrift, if ever it did. I do not wonder that these ignorant 
people look with despondency upon the beautiful spots in 



INEFFICIENT MEANS. 317 

their country, rendered sacred by the superstitions of their 
religion, and curse the foreign invaders who laid them 
waste. It is one of the most natural things in the world, 
that they should revert to the past, and garnish, by the help 
of imagination, the freedom and glory of the blissful age of 
their ancestors, in the gaudiest colors ; and, by contrast 
with the present miserable reality, become enraged against 
those who oppress them. The acts of the British govern- 
ment have not been such as to heal the wound, by enlight- 
ening their understandings, and winning their hearts to ap- 
prove and love a better order of things. We have had the 
experiment of extermination in our own country, jmrsuing 
the English plan. The natives of America loved their 
homes, the graves of their fathers, and their hunting 
grounds, and wreaked their vengeance, to the extent of 
their power, in cruel murders. The native Irish are above 
them, in many respects, and more capable of reform and 
progress. By intercourse, intermarriages, religious influ- 
ence, and proper treatment, many have become distin- 
guished, and all might be made industrious, moral, and 
happy. Nothing has been done to beget love or respect, 
but every thing to irritate, produce jealousy, and excite 
revenge. Their liberties have been assailed, their religion 
repudiated, and their homes invaded, and they compelled, 
by taxes, to support the government that oppresses, and 
by rents, the lords who impoverish them. They look 
upon this beautiful island, and see its abbeys in ruins, its 
cloisters forsaken of the reverend men of God who dwelt 
in them, while the graves of their ancestors, who sleep in 
its extensive burying grounds, call to them for redress. 
They see no common schools, no free churches, nor en- 
lightened and happy population, coming up in their places ; 
and they are sad, and unreconciled, and restless ; and who 
can wonder ? They see as much pride and splendor as in 
feudal times, while there is no chieftain to arm and protect 
them as his vassals, but landlords to treat them as serfs. 
Alas, for poor Ireland ; thy social wrongs are many and 

27* 



318 rORTUMNA. 

great, and far off is the day when thou shalt be ab/e to re- 
move them ! 

As we proceed towards the head of the lake, the shores 
are curved, and varied, and beautiful ; adorned (?) with 
some handsome seats ; presenting many beautiful land- 
scapes, of hills, vales, bays, creeks, and headlands, but every 
where tarnished with pictures of human misery. Wide 
plains sweep off towards the north and east, from which 
arise, here and there, rounded pastoral hills, which add 
greatly to the beauty of the scenery. A narrow bay 
sweeps off to the north-east, towards Parsonstown, the re- 
sidence of Lord Ross, of telescopic notoriety. Before 
reaching Portumna, the principal port at this end of the 
lake, the shores become flat and uninteresting, but hills in 
the distance, and ruined castles, are still to be seen. On 
our left, we passed the charming grounds of the Marquis 
Clancaricade, whose elegant castle was burned some 
years ago, the naked walls of which still stand, a massive 
modern i-uin. The house still occupied by the family is 
grand enough for any gentleman of moderate pretensions. 
The castle itself, I am told, was formerly one of the grand- 
est in this part of the kingdom. I have no reason to doubt 
it, for the long line of little, low mud cabins, such as some- 
times ornament our railways where deep excavations are 
to be made, and the squalor of the poor creatures we saw 
about them, are a sufficient proof, in addition to the exten- 
sive ruins and splendid grounds. The glory of a military 
chieftain is in the number of his fellow-beings he has slain 
in battle, like the notches in the Indians war-club; the 
measure of riches is the comparison with surrounding po- 
verty ; and the pride of a landlord is the amount he can 
extort from the squalid dependents about him — but the re- 
ward of the good man is the relief he affords to suffering 
humanity. 

Portumna, itself, lies a mile or so from the river. It 
was once a place of some business. It has a church. Ca- 
tholic chapel, the ruins of a priory, and a mass of misernble 



CROMWELL S CASTLE. 319 

huts, with scarcely a decent building among them, all be- 
longing to the barony of Clancaricade, together with an 
extensive tract of country, the gift of one of the Henrys 
to a French family of De Bergs, who still inherit it ; so 
that even Frenchmen are involved in the disgrace of Ire- 
land. French families are scattered all about the island, 
who were introduced into handsome estates by the English 
crown, in payment for their adhesion to the particular in- 
terests of different sovereigns, who found their services of 
great value in aiding them in the maintenance of their claims 
to ihe British throne. Ireland has been the pay ground of 
English, Scotch, and French sycophants, for several centu- 
ries, and their patents remain to the present day. Among all 
the titles, Cromwell's are the best. He made most tho- 
rough work, and his name is a by- word still, suggesting the 
greatest terror to tenants and to children. It takes the 
form of an oath, and I often hear the people use the " curse 
of Crumwill" as the strongest and most violent expression 
of disapprobation they can utter. 

On a point of land formed by tiie river and an arm of 
the lake, extending off to the east, is Bellisle, the residence 
of Lord Avonmore, and immediately upon the water's edge 
the ruins of Cromwell's Castle. This was one of the out- 
posts of Protestantism, where the minions of the Protector 
were set to keep watch over the Catholics whom he had 
driven into Connaught, from whence they could not escape 
but at the peril of their lives. The rest he had driven to 
the Continent, shipped to the West Indies, or compelled to 
keep secreted in the mountain glens of Munster. The 
more rapacious crew which accompanied the restoration 
and ministered to the corrupt and profligate habits of the 
second Charles, did not rest here. The confiscation of the 
estates Cromwell had bestowed upon his favorites were in- 
sufficient to satisfy the more hungry herd, and the fair fields 
of Connaught were seized and divided among the mean set 
who were manufactured into lords and noblemen by these 
robberies, which were entailed in perpetuity. Thus har- 



320 SHANNON BRIDGE. 

rassed in the narrow fold into which they had been driven, 
they broke out and spread over the depopulated parts of the 
island, but in the character of subordinates, tenants upon 
the lands once theirs, which they hired, by leases when they 
could, promising fealty to the intruders. Where leases 
could not be obtained, they were compelled to serve in any 
capacity, according to the dictates of their new oppressors. 
The plan of Cromwell was to regenerate the whole island, 
and make it, at once, an integral part of the empire, purely 
English in religion, politics, and people. The subsequent 
governments treated it as a conquered country, permitting 
a show of nationality, to humor the pride of its nobles, and 
hoping to derive more benefit from it in that way. This 
new arrangement rendered these border castles useless, and 
they soon fell into neglect and ruin. 

Just above Bellisle and Portumna we came to a splendid 
stone bridge over the Shannon. It is a superb work, built 
in the most thorough manner. The stone, of which it is 
constructed, were quarried from a bluff on the shore near 
by. The piers are firm and massive, the road- way level 
and broad, and the balustrades finished in a tasteful man- 
ner. A wide draw, of the most approved plan, opens a 
passway for boats, without lowering their masts. We have 
few such substantial works in our country. Some of the 
bridges on the Erie canal, especially that at Rochester, will 
compare with it I'espectably. We are a new country, and 
with us every thing was formerly done with respect to pre- 
sent need irrespective of the future. As we have grown 
older, more able and wise, v/e are giving more attention 
to permanence and beauty ; so that when we arrive at the 
age of our father-land we may hope to show works of equal 
grandeur: — Ay, too, and before. We may never build 
feudal castles, massive abbeys, extravagant cathedrals and 
convents, but, inspired by the motives of true utility we 
have already undertaken and accomplished, some works 
which would do honor to any age or nation. They are 
monuments of good judgment and of republican equality. 



REDWOOD CASTLE. 021 

They speak for the whole. If they do not awaken the feel- 
ing of superstition and reverence, they do not offend the 
sentiments of philanthropy, as the ancient monuments of 
exclusiveness we meet with here. But great changes we 
are happy to see in the movements of the Old World, which 
strike us more forcibly from the deep contrast in which 
they appear. Bridges and roads, which, for completeness, 
surpass any thing we can boast, are for the general good, 
and even the barracks, and jails, and work-houses, the re- 
maining signs of improvement, are not emblems of feudal- 
ism, but of ideas more gregarious and universal than those 
which marked the centuries past. There is hope yet, that 
a broader spirit of humanity will, step by step, take off 
the burdens of oppression, and elevate the down-trodden 
to a higher rank in the scale and opportunities of social life. 
This is the station of the company having the exclusive 
navigation of the Shannon, where they exchange boats, 
and tranship passengers and freight, from those of larger 
size plying on the lake, to those fitted to run upon the shoal 
water of the upper river. Quays and harbors have been 
built for the accommodation of these boats, and several 
store-houses and coal-yards for the use of the company. 
Several hands are employed here, who live in a small vil- 
lage on the east bank of the river. The lofty ruins of 
Redwood castle still support their crumbling turrets, and 
look, with a sullen frown, upon these changes and encroach- 
ments of modern times. Never mind, old tower of feudal- 
ism, and Puritan fury ; thou hast had thy day of glory, 
and 'tis passed. Another generation has come to toil, and 
suffer, and weep, drinking the dregs of the cup thou didst 
mingle for them. The noise of mirth and revelry, while 
thou standest, would be like a merry song in a charnel 
house. The wrongs which reared thee, this century can 
not forget. But thou, and the memory of thee, shall pass 
away, and a better day will come. Ah! shake thy grim 
locks, and thou wilt, at the clang and jostling of these new 
inventions, as the rushing steam goes whizzing and whirring 



322 THE INFLUENCE OF TIME. 

from its pent-up prison, where it has been doing good ser- 
vice; and these passengers and goods are hurried at un- 
wonted speed, over this handsome bridge, which claims lit- 
tle affinity to thee or thine ! Ay, fret, and eke out a croco- 
dile tear, if thou canst, to wet thy withered, blackened face, 
and show pity for thy rebellious children ! These arts and 
improvements for social intercourse assail thy destiny, 
with surer success, and will sooner topple thy turrets down, 
than Ludlow's cannon, or O'Connel's Repeal. Stand there, 
ignoble monument of a tyrannical, selfish, and inglorious age ! 
Thou art no more than the mausoleum of the chieftains 
and the chivalry which reared them. Thy serfs are waiting 
for freedom. Many have gone to the home of liberty al- 
ready, though many still remain to delve yet longer amid 
the ruin thou hast seen wrought. Ah, turn not thy sunken 
eye in deathly stare upon me. Thou canst not frighten a 
child of freedom ! Cease thy mutterings, old toothless tower, 
for they but increase my abhorence, and I laugh at the fool- 
ish frolics of thy dotage. Better give ail thy attention 
to the nursing of thy sickly sons, who, like the last — the 
teatman of a puny race, half scorned of himself for his 
imbecility, still clings to the shadow of feudal chivalry, and 
plays the lord under thy crumbling walls ! He needs all 
thy concern, lest the spreading spirit of justice and philan- 
thropy sweep away the cobwebs of aristocracy, and reduce 
every man to his proper level. Farewell to thee, old Red- 
wood ! A yankee has looked at thy dingy walls, and left 
for thee a prophecy, that, ere this century closes, thou and 
the institutions that fostered thee shall lie as low as this 
broad level now before me ! 

The boat to which we are transferred, is a long narrow 
craft, much like a canal boat, with a smoke pipe in the cen- 
tre, and wheels on the sides. The deck is about even with 
the surface, and back of the pipe a room is built up for a 
cabin, over which we pass from the forward, or main deck, 
to get into it. A walk three feet wide, with a railing, is 
built for that purpose, with one or two latteral jets, where 



THE UPPER SHANNON. 323 

one can step aside for an other to pass. The cabin is a very 
plain affair, having windows on each side, and furnished with 
several small tables for the use of such as wish to eat or 
drink. A small cook room, at the entrance, does not add 
much to the comfort of one's olfactories, unless he be hun- 
gry and has money, and then the tedium of preparation 
well nigh destroys his appetite. But if the eight or ten pas- 
sengers we have is a sample of the amount of travel, the 
" Inland Company" can not afford to furnish better accom- 
modations. The stewardess did her best to give us a com- 
fortable dinner, for which she did not forget to ask a pretty 
large price, and the "little something" for herself, besides, 
to which last, of course, we could not object, it being the 
fashion of the country. But who would honor such a de- 
mand on our boats. But here a man must " be hanged and 
pay a forty shilling." 

The country, this side the bridge, becomes flat and 
swampy. The shores are low, barely rising above the sur- 
face of the water, and vast prairies sweep off on both sides, 
much in the fashion of the bottom lands on the banks of 
our western rivers. These extensive flats afford grazing 
for large herds of cattle and sheep, which are now scattered 
over them, but are not capable of cultivation. In wintei', 
I am told, they are covered to the depth of two or three 
feet, when all this region looks like a vast lake. The river 
is narrow, crooked and deep, about the size of the Raritan, 
with bold shores and a sluggish current. Occasionally a 
point of elevated land comes down to the river from the 
distant hills, which is cultivated, and contains a few misera- 
ble dwellings. But there is something attractive in the still- 
ness of this broad level, for it is well to go into retirement 
occasionally, and give space for reflection where there is no 
object but God higher than one's self A deep solemnity is 
breathed around, and a fearful sense of responsibility 
awakened, which stirs the inmost feelings of the soul and 
makes one feel conscious of his dependence, and grateful 
for his sources of enjoyment. In this country especially, 



324 VICTORIA LOCK. 

where the heart is pained at the sight of wrong, oppression 
and crime, this scene of unabused nature affords rehef It 
reminds me forcibly of the vast prairies in our western coun- 
try, as a poor miniature will awaken love for an absent 
friend. But there is a bleakness and barrenness about the 
boggy portions of this flat area which have no correspond- 
ence in our prairies ; and the distant heathy hills do not 
compare well with their rolling undulations and skirting 
forests. 

In the midst of this monotonous scener}" there stood the 
ruined walls of an old castle, which appear like a scar 
upon the smooth face of an uninteresting countenance. Si- 
lent, solemn, lonely, they stand there, patiently enduring the 
mockery of the passing age, and muttering, like a toothless 
octogenarian, rebukes and prophecies of evil over the ex- 
travagance and radicalism of the present generation. 
Some misanthropic squire, whose feats of chivalry won 
not the hand of his lady-love, must have chosen this lone- 
some spot to hermitize himself from the varied pleasures 
of social life, and bemoan the tedium of life's ebbing cur- 
rent, as he watched the lazy movements of this sluggish 
stream, meandering reluctantly towards its ocean home. 
Or, else, the sturdy Protestant, fearing the level of equal 
toleration, put up this castle to hold the persecuted Catho- 
lic at bay, in his narrow dominions, and show the strength 
of Saxon power to crush the liberty and destroy the 
rights of his Celtic brother. No matter; it has had its 
day ; served its time ; fulfilled its mission, and gone into 
ruin. The world has no longer any need of it. It is va- 
luable only as a tombstone of the past — a monument of 
what was. 

An hour, at a lazy pace, and we are at the " Victoria 
lock," through which we have just passed. It is a mag- 
nificent work. Like the bridge before noticed, it is built of 
huge blocks of lime-stone, put together in the most thorough 
and finished style. I do not know the dimensions, but judge 
it must be one hundred and fifty feet long, twenty-five wide, 



MARTELLO TOWER. 325 

and eighteen deep. It is sufficient to raise our steamboat 
eight feet. It was tiiought, by its projectors, to be worthy 
of the Queen's name, which is sculptured upon each side 
of it, and is said to surpass any other of the kind in the 
kingdom, being httie inferior to the celebrated locks into 
the docks at Liverpool. The operation of locking through 
it is the same as on our canals, and is done with equal ex- 
pedition. In size it may not equal the locks on the Ohio, 
at Louisville, but in style it is vastly superior. 

Not far from the lock, on one of the low islands formed 
by the branching of the river, is a Martello tower, of mo- 
dern erection, designed for some military purpose, I sup- 
pose, for the "dogs of war" are mounted upon the summit 
of its walls. It does not look like a very formidable affair, 
but is sufficient to overawe the "natives" and keep them 
in subjection. The government surely can not fear that 
the marine of an invading foe will ever penetrate so far 
into the interior of this country ; and if it should, this lock 
is a better barrier than a dozen cannon, ever so well 
manned. I am not able to comprehend the design of such 
a fortification, in such a place. There are a thousand 
places where the river can be passed, as well as here. 
When I first saw it, I thought it must be a light-house. 
But these dark lanterns, pointing over the wall, can not be 
designed to guide and save men from shipwreck, but to 
alarm, and subdue, and kill — fit emblem of England's policy 
towards her own subjects, at home and abroad. 

Beyond the tower, on the Galway shore, the ruins of 
Meelick Abbey were pointed out to us, which indicate a 
building of large size and considerable splendor. The low 
lands are here cultivated, and large meadows of luxuriant 
grass indicate their fertility. Detached hills are seen in 
the distance, and plateaus of elevated ground between 
them and the river, approaching, in some places, near to it. 
A small stream comes in from the east, up which we see 
some handsome grounds, a small hamlet, and one of the 
oldest inhabited castles in the kingdom, formerly belonging 

28 



326 A SWEET SPOT. 

to the Mac Coghlers, but now occupied by one of the 
O'Mores, some connexion of " Rory," perhaps, for Chris- 
tians, in this land, "give heed to endless genealogies." 
The situation is very beautiful, and, if I lived there, I 
should dislike, exceedingly, to have my "dhrames always 
go by conthraries." 

The branch up which we are sailing is little more, in ap- 
pearance, than a canal. The banks are low, and the chan- 
nel so narrow one can almost leap from the boat to the 
shore. Several small green islets are scattered about care- 
lessly, among which we wind on our way. What adds 
much to the beauty of one lonely spot we are passing, and 
affords i"elief to the general nakedness of the country, is 
a beautiful copse of trees which skirt the northern border, 
beyond which, on a gently rising ground, is a splendid man- 
sion, with a green lawn in front, extending some twenty 
rods to the water, with richly decorated gardens on the 
side beyond. A sweet little island, studded with trees, and 
entangled with shrubs and vines, in rich profusion, gives it 
a wild and romantic appearance, and I can almost fancy I 
am in my own native land. A most lovely spot ; of all 
others, just the place I should choose, was I to live in Ire- 
land. It is beautiful : but not for that would I choose it ; 
for there are many others as enchanting about the Killar- 
ney lakes, and along the Lower Shannon, and on the bor- 
ders of the sea. But this is so isolated from the sight and 
hearing of misery, that I do actually feel relief as I pass it, 
to find that there is a spot in this fated land where one 
can hide away from the wail of poverty and suffering. 
The flat moors and meadows all around are so vast that 
no cry can sweep across them ; and he who has the 
good fortune to live here, may not grow callous to the 
sentiments of humanity, by the constant entreaties of 
starved millions. It is an oasis in this miserable, but 
beautiful land. Sweet, charming spot, I pass from thee 
with regret, fearing I shall not soon " look on thy like 
again." 



BENNAGHER. 327 

A few turns and we are at Bennagher. It is what we 
feared to find it — fair in the distance, but more miserable 
as we approach it. And yet here are the evidences that 
power, weahh, and industry exist somewhere, for we are 
now laying along side of a fine quay, and close under a 
massive bridge, whose noble piers and broad arches span 
this fine river, and whose buttresses and parapets rise twenty 
or thirty feet above it. We have just been up the bank 
and taken a glance at the town. It looks like a place 
of considerable business, has one or two large churches, 
numerous stores, and a bank, and exhibits signs of life 
we have found in no place this side of Limerick. Nu- 
merous soldiers are loitering about the street and quay, 
and I have just counted seventeen looking down upon 
us from the bridge. The captain of the boat has had a 
long conversation with one of the officers and some police- 
men on shore There is a military station — infantry bar- 
racks, field works with several pieces of ordnance, for 
what I do not know. Opposite there is a Martello tower, 
with a battery mounted on the top. It stands as a guard 
at the Gal way end of the bridge. One would suppose this 
river was the boundary of two kingdoms, by the array of 
fortifications seen on both sides. 

A gentleman has just informed me that there are, at pre- 
sent, three fortified passes of the Shannon, and this is one of 
them ; the other two are above, one at Shannon Bridge, 
some ten miles distant, on the Roscommon side, and the 
other at Athlone, some twenty-five miles from this place, 
and near the outlet of Lough Rea. The latter is a town 
of considerable importance, and the fortifications are on a 
large scale. It has a strong castle, or citadel, erected in the 
reign of King John, but since enlarged and strengthened. 
It stands on elevated ground, on the West Meath side, and 
commands the bridge and both sides of the river. It is 
surrounded by extensive breast- works, mounted with artil- 
lery, all ready for action. On the opposite, or Roscommon 
side, are forts and redoubts which guard all the approaches 



328 A CAUSE OF ENVY. 

from Connaught. The armory contains fifteen thousand 
stand of arms, and there are barracks, store-houses, hospi- 
tals, and all the appurtenances of a strongly fortified town. 
Shannon Bridge has a less formidable show of military de- 
fences, but superior to what we see here. These places 
were the principle passess from Connaught to Leinster, in 
olden times, and hence they were strongly guarded, as well 
as those above Lough Rea. But the government has not 
seen fit to keep up any others ; and why these are he was 
not able to inform me. There certainly can be no more 
danger of a rebellion in Connaught, among the wretched 
and destitute population of Gal way, Mayo, and Sligo, than 
in Tipperary, Cork, or Kent, or even in Ulster, for Mitchell, 
of whom we hear so much, is an Ulster protestant, and 
O'Brien is a protestant from Limerick. 

It looks unchristian to see these hordes of men in martial 
attire, loafing about the streets, whose well-filled capons ex- 
cite the envy of the starved wretches over whom they keep 
watch, and tend to foster a spirit of discontent, and hostility 
to the government which keeps up such distinctions. But 
there is shrewd policy in this procedure. All the best 
young men are enlisted into the army, navy, or police ser- 
vice, where they are fed and clothed at the public charge, 
and in good style, and well paid, so as to make them con- 
tented with their condition, and attached to the interests 
of the government in any course it is pleased to adopt. And 
then it is politic to keep up a fair militar)' show, both to 
overawe the people, and to attract the attention of ardent 
and ambitious young men, who may be induced to fill up 
all the vacancies which may occur in the ranks of the pub- 
lic force. England boasts of her constitutional freedom, 
and the leniency of her laws ; but, really, I have, so far, seen 
little proof of either ; but much which comports with the 
ideas I have formed of a military despotism. It may not 
be the despotism of one individual, of an absolute monarch ; 
but the despotism of many individuals, petty tyrants, who 
play the autocrat, in the landlord, agent, and middle-man, 



FORCIBLE AND PERMISSIVE WRONG. 329 

to all intents and purposes, in their own spheres and over 
their own vassals. England is, at least, so far as Ireland is 
concerned, a military aristocracy, which is absolute so far 
as the interest, the welfare, and even the lives of the 
masses are concerned. It matters little whether a militarv 
officer orders a corporal's guard to seize a man, chain him 
down to his coffin, and then commands a platoon to shoot 
him through the heart, or whether a landlord's agent, with 
a sheriff and posse of policemen evict him, and turn himself 
and family out upon the world, without any source of living, 
and leave them to die, inch by inch, of starvation. The 
latter is often done, and for fear the people will rebel, these 
fortifications are manned with the armor of death, and 
young men are trained to sear their consciences against the 
voice of God, uttered in the rights and wants of a common 
humanity, and to obey the command of a superior officer 
to do any deed, however barbarous, under the penalty of 
losing their own lives. This is English freedom, and Ire- 
land's blessing, gained by conquest and the union of 1800. 
The soldiery in Ireland, at this time, out-numbers the whole 
army of the United States in a time of peace, more than 
four times. Its social condition can be easily inferred from 
this circumstance. 

From Bennagher to Shannon harbor, the current of the 
river is scarcely perceptible, and the shores are low and 
boggy. At the former place, we passed through a shallow 
lock, of two or three feet near which two or three freight 
boats were lying. We have, so far, seen nothing to indicate 
any great amount of business done on this great central 
thoroughfare of this densely populated country. A traveler 
would see. more stir and business in a single hour, on the 
Erie canal, than he could here in a week ; for there boats 
are passing constantly, while here, in our whole route from 
Limerick, we have not met or passed a single boat, in mo- 
tion, and not a dozen lying idle at the landings. Thei'e 
certainly can be no thrift in a country so favorably circum- 
stanced for the growth and transport of an immense amount 

28* 



330 THE aUESTION OF RIGHTS, 

of produce. There must be something radically wrong in 
the management of affairs. If the fault is all to be attached 
to the peasantry, it is high time some measures were 
adopted to instruct them in a better course. If it is the 
landlords who are to blame, something should be done to 
bring them to a sense of duty. If it is the government 
who does all the wrong, makes all the mischief, then a re- 
volution should set matters to rights. But, what is more 
plain, if all are alike concerned in the transgression, and 
have helped, more or less, to produce the ruinous state of 
things every where prevailing, it then becomes a mutual 
duty, as all are alike interested, to remove the impediments, 
and introduce and sustain measures which can appeal to 
the sentiment of justice, and give assurances of general 
good. The government should protect the tenant, the 
small farmer, and the day-laborer, as well as the land- 
owner and middle-man, and give encouragement to honest 
industry. The landlord should study the rights and happi- 
ness of his tenants, and seek to promote their welfare as 
well as his own. And tenants should know the rights of 
the landlords, and respect them, and do all that justice de- 
mands at their hands. 

But here comes a difficulty, alike troublesome to ttie 
well-taught philosopher and the unsophisticated peasant. 
On what basis do these rights rest ? By what standard 
are they to be tested ? The man of the world, the officer 
of government, the sinecure arist^ocrat, may have no trou- 
ble in satisfying their minds. They assert, Vv'ithout hesita- 
tion, that the government has all rights at its disposal — to 
create, modify, or abrogate, at pleasure. The crown has 
portioned out these baronies to the marquis, earl, lord, or 
gentleman, and entailed the fee in their first-born male 
heirs throughout all generations. The crown has estab- 
lished a church, and the occupiers of these lands must give 
a tenth of all their income to support its clergy and digni- 
taries, whether they believe their doctrines and sit under 
their administrations or not. The crown must be defend- 



NATURAL RIGHTS. 331 

ed, right or wrong, and these armies and navies nnust be 
supported, to preserve peace at honme, and prosecute con- 
quests abroad. 

These nohlemen have redder blood in their veins, and 
they and their families must be supported in indolence and 
luxury, at foreign courts, at the expense of these tillers of 
the earth. All this is very plain, because very lawful and 
common. And if these poor tenants complain, it is their 
own fault. Here is the land ; it will produce enough to 
pay rents, tithes, taxes, county-cess, and leave potatoes and 
oat-meal for them and their little ones to live on, if indus- 
trious and prudent ! But they do not work half so much 
as they should, and, unfortunately, the potato-rot has taken 
away their main sustenance. But if they are not satisfied 
they may quit, and shirk for themselves. Scotch and 
English farmers can be had, who will do better than these 
have for themselves and for us. So argued a landlord to 
me, to day, and added, that, " You are welcome to all *our 
Irish population, if you want them." My reply was, that 
we did not want them, but were willing to be merciful to 
such as their inhumanity forced upon us. 

The Christian philosopher and humble peasant view this 
matter in a different light, and from different stand-points. 
They go back of human law, when they talk of natural 
rights, which God has enacted and made fundamental to 
human legislation. They do not understand the justice or 
the wisdom of the present apportionment of God's heritage, 
made alike for the benefit of all his children. They repu- 
diate the doctrine that kings and barons have divine rights, 
more than others, and that priests are God's oracles on 
earth. If the Jews paid tithes to support one of the 
twelve tribes, that tribe had no land, while every other 
had a right to possess a " tenant-right" from Heaven, and 
no one could monopolize a large territory ; not even the 
king could obtain the vineyard of Naboth, without the 
wicked intrigue of Jezebel, and the " nobles" who suborned 
"two men of Belial" to perjure themselves, by which the 



332 A CURE OF THE PEOPLe's WRONGS 

" inheritance of his fathers" was confiscated on grounds 
not unlike those employed by Cromwell and the Christian 
kings of England to obtain these Irish possessions — 
" Naboth did blaspheme the name of God and the 
king." Poor Ireland has been wronged these four centu- 
ries, and is well nigh dead, and its land, by perjured men, 
has been parcelled out, and given away, while its rightful 
owners are required to till it at the bidding and on the 
terms of their oppressors. 

It is difficult to understand the right of such institutions, 
or to discern how a better state of things can be reasona- 
bly expected, till some radical change takes place. The 
poor laborer does not understand why he should toil and 
starve, to support the pride of boys and girls made of such 
material as himself. He finds no such direction in the na- 
tural constitution of the world, nor in the revealed will of 
God. And the better he becomes informed, the more de- 
graded he feels in his dependent and servile condition. He 
rejects, repudiates, demurs, and finally refuses, and is then 
cast out to starve for his stubbornness. Or, if by chance, 
one should be raised to a rank with the favorites of go- 
vernment, the change is so great, and the influences so 
strong, that he " forgets, straightway, what manner of man 
he was,'" and becomes, in turn, the oppressor of his bre- 
thren. 

The philanthropist sees no hope of any thing like perma- 
nent improvement under the present system of laws. 
Every thing indicates that changes from bad to worse will 
continue, till the culminating point is reached — which can 
not be far distant — when a new and better order will arise 
out of the present confusion. But it is needless to talk 
about paying the Catholic priests — such pap may quiet a 
few, but it can not satisfy the masses. It may help to weld 
the chains of church and state, and keep the masses 
crushed a while longer, by the imposition of a new burden, 
but it can never exalt the people to rational freedom, or the 
dignity of men. And yet, it is said, government seriously 



SOUGHT IN THC RESTORATION OF MONASTERIES. 333 

contemplates the manoeuver, to which it has been urged by- 
certain demagogues, who tremble for the fate of a state re- 
hgion. The Catholics, generally, pretend to oppose the 
plan, and propose another, equally objectionable. To the 
question, " What is to be done with Ireland — and how is 
Ireland to be relieved from her present misery ?" the Ro- 
man Catholic clergy answer, " The means of giving to Ire- 
land permanent future prosperity, rests in the restoration to 
her of the possession of her ancient and long-tried Insti- 
tute — the Monastic Order Let Ireland again have 

her Monastic Institute, and she begs no more. Let her 
have that, and her children are no longer stamped with the 
character of laziness or ignorance."* And the English 
Parliament is invoked to turn back to the days of moral 
darkness, to seek a solace for Irish sufiering. How the up- 
rearing of convents and nunneries would remedy present 
evils, it is difficult to see, unless by diminishing the increase 
of population ! That is needless, for it is estimated, with 
good reason, that Ireland, under proper management, could 
sustain double its present population. In my humble 
judgment, it would add but an other barrier, more formi- 
dable than any other, to the accumulated wrongs under 
which this nation is now struggling, and retard its deli- 
verance for centuries. 

" Monastic Orders" are not very distinguished for the 
advocacy, establishment, and defence of i^opidar liberty 

* " But to give permanency and perfection to Irish prosperity, a restoration 
of her olden system is absolutely necessary. Let there be in every district a 
monastic establishment, calculated, by its number of inhabitants and its tem- 
poral means, to give education in evejy branch of requisite knowledge. Let 
the Monks, in their lowly habit and life of self-abnegation, be empowered to 
scatter the seeds of that science, which ever makes men industrious and cha- 
ritable. Let their well-cultivated fields be as so many patterns to each surround- 
ing neighborhood — let their early-tolled bells announce the cheering note of 
happy labor in the fields ; and let their holy conversation stimulate the rising 
youth to works of piety, to the practice of virtue, and to the perfect fulfil- 
ment of all their duties as Christians, and as subjects of the British Empire." 
—Rev. M. Scally, O. C. C. 



334 AN EXPERIMENT DEMANDED 

and equal lights, without which no nation can be truly 
exalted and happy. Witness Italy, Spain, Portugal, Mexi- 
co, and the kingdoms of South America. Wlierever and 
whenever ecclesiastics have borne rule, personal liberty, 
religious, political, and social, has been trampled down, the 
most sacred rights invaded, and the people reduced to pe- 
nury, ignorance, and the most abject dependence and ser- 
vitude. Who that has passed through the districts of Ire- 
land, the German States, the Swiss cantons, and Catholic 
and Protestant countries, has not been surprised at the 
contrasts which indicate the limits of ecclesiastical autho- 
rity and religious fi^eedom ? The line of civilization and 
barbarism are not more distinct. 

But that experiment has been tried, and the world is sa- 
tisfied of its inadequacy. The millions groaning in bon- 
dage and poverty, " laziness and ignorance," in the coun- 
tries before referred to, are a sufficient warning. It will 
take better proofs than the Carmelite Convent at Knock- 
topher can aftbrd, to satisfy the democratic tendency of 
the present age, that these monasteries are institutions for 
the benefit of the masses, for the enlightenment and equali- 
zation of mankind, and the fraternization of the classes, 
without distinction of caste, condition, sect, or race. The 
spirit of this age is Christian, eminently so. Its demands 
and proffers are universal. It overleaps all barriers, sun- 
ders all covenants, repudiates all claims, and tramples down 
all forms, which error and selfishness have reared on earth, 
for the division and alienation of humanity. It proclaims 
the fast the Lord hath chosen " to loose the bands of wick- 
edness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed 
go free, and that ye break every yoke." It does it in faith, 
believing that God's promise is about being fulfilled, when 
the light is to break out like the morning, and health to spring 
forth speedily, while righteousness goes before, and God is 
the rearward. The disintegration of mankind by the con- 
fusion of tongues has been fulfilled ; the " Shiboleths" of 
human councils have been tried, and signally failed ; and 



ON BROADER PRINCIPLES. 335 

now, the deep voice of humanity, which found an utter- 
ance in true and courageous men, on the hills and plains, 
in the cities and villages of Palestine, in the judgment hall 
and in the temple, before the Areopagite and at the Diet 
of Worms, still speaks, louder than seven thunders, calling 
upon the nations to be free, wise, good, and happy. It is a lan- 
guage which all can understand — love, liberty, fraternity, 
equality ! It is the language which God, by prophets, pro- 
mised — " to turn unto the people a pure language, that they 
should call upon the name of the Lord, to serve HIM with 
one consent." Each true man, with faith in Christ, feels 
that he is a king and priest unto God, and that none of 
Adam's race, or Saul's descent, have a right to step be- 
tween him and his Maker, to enslave either body or soul 
He asks for the liberty wherewith Christ hath made him 
free, and will not be again entangled in the yoke of bon- 
dage. He will consent to government for the mutual pro- 
tection it affords, and will help to support it, voluntarily 
and cheerfully. He will receive priests after the order of 
Melchisedec, who come, like the great Master, to serve 
mankind by lessons of wisdom and examples of piety, and 
he will love and honor them. But he sees no virtue in the 
"mysterious oil" which anoints a king, or consecrates a 
priest. He discovers no rightful power in the coronet of 
the noble, the mitre of the bishop, the ermine of a judge, 
or epaulet of a general, which is not derived from the con- 
sent of the people. He rejects the " regis," repudiates the 
ecclesiarch, and pleads the general issue. 

Irishmen have been compelled to know some thing of 
these principles. Their hills and their bogs, their oppres- 
sors and their miseries, have taught them to be free. 
Many most distinguished men in America are from Ireland. 
Her patriotic sons have served in the battles of most of 
the armies of the civilized world, and have distinguished 
themselves by the most heroic valor. The fields of Clon- 
tarf and Waterloo, the heights of Quebec, the plains of 
New Orleans, the waters off Trafalgar, the moats of Ba- 



336 IRISH VALOR. 

dajos, the walls of Toulouse and Salamanca, and, more re- 
cently, Monterey, Cerro Gordo, and Chapultepec, with a 
thousand others, have been stained with the warm blood 
of Irishmen. And who will talk about " monasteries," "legal- 
ized tenant-rights," and " pay for the Catholic clergymen," 
as sugar-plums to reconcile them to their wrongs, or make 
them loyal to their oppressors. 

I know, and have confessed, that many Irish are degra- 
ded, ignorant, lazy, improvident. But does that justify op- 
pression, or argue that the longer denial of their rights 
will afford them relief — that to pay clergymen and help 
landlords, will make the people contented and happy ? 
Never. This age has learned to discredit the doctrine, 
that to protect the rich is to provide for the poor, and that 
the repetition of mass in a convent will make a community 
religious. It now asks, as of yore, " Do not the rich op- 
press you ?" (James 26,) and demands that each man 
should have a chance to be rich and religious for himself, 
while every man " bears his own burdens." Om's is emi- 
nently a practical age. The days of abstractions are past, 
and examples and illustrations are now demanded. And. 
if ye will have it so, ours is a radical age ; first principles 
are discussed. The axe is laid at the roots of the trees of 
social life. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is 
hewn down. Kingcraft and priestcraft have been tried — 
well tried. They have flourished luxuriantly. But their 
fruit has been the apples of Sodom — death to every thing 
like rational liberty, equal rights and social happiness. The 
christian leaven is now at work. The fermentation has 
already begun. Agitation is the consequence. Expansion 
will follow. The systems of government will become more 
liberal. The natural and inalienable rights which God has 
given to his children will be better understood ; and such 
laws will be enacted as will secure to all their free exercise, 
and make penal every infringement, by high or low, rich or 
poor. Then every man will rise or sink to his proper level, 
and the race will progress to the obtain ment of the great 



AN OPl'ORTUiMTV WAM'ED. 337 

ends of existence, order, love, and unity — the glory of God 
and the happiness of the world ! Amen ! 

These notions may be considered Utopian by the unbe- 
lieving. They would be by myself had I not learned them 
from One who had the truth, and bore witness to it, under 
circumstances darker than these. I see clouds, though no 
bigger than a man's hand, which indicate commotions which 
will purify the atmosphere, and change the aspect of things, 
turning the parched ground into pools of water, and spread- 
ing life, and health, and beauty every where. The quick 
perceptions of the Irish, when once an opportunity is offered, 
will direct them in a proper course of action. What they 
need is a removal of their burdens, not an increase of them, 
and words and examples of encouragement. Let the rulers 
of the land once deal justly and equitably with all the peo- 
ple, and give free opportunity, and these agitations will 
cease, poverty will be speedily removed, and Ireland will 
become a prosperous, happy, and loyal country. Extortion 
and oppression, the crushing weight of political and social 
disabilities, kept under the espionage of priests, policemen, 
and standing armies, the minions of aristocracy, can only 
make the present difficulties more intricate, and procrasti- 
nate the day of redemption. " Blessed are the merciful, for 
they shall obtain mercy." Like will produce like ; Ireland's 
wretchedness and depravity can all be explained according 
to the eternal laws which rule the world ; and its deliver- 
ance and enfranchisement can only be obtained by obedience 
to the same. Let the poor beloved and cared for, let justice 
be done to all — its image is represented blindfold, holding 
the equal scales in a steady hand — let all false, unnatuial, 
and unjust distinctions be removed, and this " gem of the 
ocean," shall no longer be tarnished as now, with scenes of 
wrong and outrage, and misery which so despoil its beauty. 
The people will learn to love and appreciate knowledge and. 
virtue, and will enter cheerfully into the habits of peaceful 
industry which will be no longer unrequited. What bless- 
ings would not result to England, and our own country, and 

29 



338 SHANNON HARBOR. 

to the world, from such a course of christian justice and 
benevolence ! Figures could not compute them. Time, 
in its long duration, would continue to develop them, and 
eternity in its blaze of glory reveal them all. 

Shannon harbor is that point of the river where the grand 
canal crosses it from Dublin to Ballinasloe. It is a lonely 
^pot. There is no village or buildings near the junction. 
A miserable wharf in bad repair, and a shackly bridge are 
the only indications of a harbor. Some distance to the 
cast, there is a large hotel and canal station, and at the west 
a small dwelling for the lock tender. To the north, the 
country is flat and uninteresting as far as we could see, 
through which the sluggish waters of the Shannon meander. 
The Brosna river, one of its principal tributaries, enters at 
this point, from the east, and not far above, on the opposite 
side, the Sack. 

We waited some time for the packet boat from Ballinasloe, 
some fifteen miles distant, situated on both sides of the Sack, 
in Galway and Roscommon counties, and at the termina- 
tion of the Grand canal. We amused ourselves in talking 
with some ragged girls, who came with small cans of milk 
and an old half-pint tin cup, to supply the wants of travel- 
ers. I patronized one of them in order to gain her confi- 
dence. They looked famished and miserable. I gave her 
an extra penny, the price of two cups full, and told her to 
drink it herself She said she did not dare to drink it, for 
" sure the Missus would bate her an she did." I told her to 
keep the penny then, and buy her some bread. That she 
did not dare do lest the mistress should hear of it and ac- 
cuse her of stealing it. So she refused to take it. This 
certainly was a striking proof of the falsity of the whole- 
sale aspersions of Irish character. Still, I am inclined to 
think that there was no great virtue in the refusal, for she 
seemed to covet it, and no doubt felt actually worse than 
she would if she had been free to accept it. It is a virtue 
of subjection which is exceedingly degrading to a sensitive 



LAW AND ORDER. 339 

mind. That conduct which is produced by no higher mo- 
tive than the fear of punishment, is of questionable merit, 
whatever the results may be. Every action, to be merito- 
rious, must be free and voluntary, dictated by a conscious- 
ness of what is right, and designed for good. A submission 
or morality, extorted by the pressure of outward influences, 
possesses no merit. " It is that which cometh out of a man 
that defileth him." 

I also had a conversation with a gentleman who related 
to me a fact which serves to show how " law and order" 
are preserved in this country. In the hunting park of 

Lord , a poor laborer poached a rabbit. lie was 

detected in the act and shot dead by the forester of the 
" nobleman." The facts became known, yet no more at- 
tention was paid to them than there would have been at 
the slaughter of the vilest reptile that crawls on the earth. 
I have heard of many cases where the tenants who have 
killed game which was destroying their crops, have not only 
been heavily fined but imprisoned also. Notices of " vio- 
lence and outrages" of this character rarely find a place in 
the columns of the English journals, great sticklers as they 
affect to be for the sway of " law and order. To shoot an 
animal which is destroying the crops of the poor tenant in- 
volves fine and imprisonment, but to shoot the tenant him- 
self involves scarcely the notice of an inquiry ! 

There is, at present, no regular line of steamboats to 
Athlone, though I am told the river is navigable to Lough 
Allan, some eighty or ninety miles farther. In our coun- 
try, new as it is, such a stream would not long remain 
undisturbed by regular lines of boats, laden with the fruits 
of industry, cheered by the animated countenances of 
those by whom they were produced. 

Ballinasloe, the residence of Lord Clancarty is said to 
have been a place of a good deal of business, where the 
largest cattle fairs in the kingdom were formerly .held — 
sometimes as many as eighty thousand sheep and twelve 
thousand horned cattle, and goods to the amount of £500,- 



340 ATHLOXE. 

000 changed hands at a single fair. It is now, however, 
like all other parts of the country, fallen into poverty and 
ruin, through the neglect of the proprietor.* 

I have a strong desire to visit Athlone, one of the most 
important towns in the central part of the kingdom ; and 
also the celebrated " Seven Churches" at Cianmacnoise, just 
this side, where a large round tower, and the ruins of the 
churches are still to be seen. It is described as a desolate 
and forsaken spot, on a barren ridge of gravelly hills, near the 
banks of the Shannon, now celebrated only as a place of 
burial, where numbers of the simple and superstitious pea- 
santry desire to have their remains deposited, as in a hallowed 
spot, and near to heaven. Athlone is still a place of im- 
portance as a military station. Its position is said to be 
beautiful; its name is poetic; and its history interesting 
going back to the first records of this country. It has been 
the scene of many wonders in war and religion, and still 
bears the marks of antiquity and splendor. It stands so 
near upon the borders of the different provinces, formerly 
kingdoms, Meath, Leinster and Connaught, and not far from 
Ulster and Munster, and being strongly fortified, it became 
a point of great importance in the civil wars which har- 
rassed the country. And the English seized upon it early 
as an important post to keep the conquered provinces in 
subjection, and perpetrated some of their bloody deeds for 
the support of opposing dynasties. The army of king 
William, under General de Ginckle, met with a long and 
brave resistance from the army of king James, under 
General St. Ruth, in 1691, but succeeded in capturing the 
castle and routing the latter, which it finally conquered on 
the field of Kilcommadan, near Aughrim, a few miles from 
Ballinasloe. The castles in this region, and through Con- 

* " The town of Ballinasloe — some two or three years since, one of 
the most improving in the western province — is now converted by the happy 
management of Lord Clancarty and the guardians into one vast lazar-house — 
the concentrating point of all the destitution, disease, and vice of the largest 
union in Ireland, with only one exception — the huge Golgotha of Connaught." 



ANTICIPATIONS. 341 

naught, are innumerable. Almost every large building was 
a fortification, designed to protect the neighborhood from 
the forays of English miscreants who hunted the Irish 
Catholics like wild beasts, of which they wished to rid the 
land. One writer says : " Before the arrival of Henry II. 
there were not more than four or five castles, except those 
built in towns. In Henry the Eighth's reign there were up- 
wards of five hundred of these small castellated houses in 
the county of Galway, and since that period, chiefly in the 
reigns of Mary and Elizabeth, they multiplied exceedingly. 
The common, small, square castles were the residences of 
English undertakers ; and all those built before the reign 
of James I. were executed by English masons, and on 
English plans," — an indication of English interference in 
those times, and the deadly warfare between the Protestant 
and Catholic religions. 

1 am comforted with the thought that my inability to 
visit these places, will save my feelings from those pain- 
ful reflections to which they have been subjected ever 
since I landed at Kinsale. I have no heart to search fur- 
ther into the wrongs and miseries of the west of Ireland. 
I have been through the worst counties, and I am glad to 
go eastward, through Meath and Ulster, which are called 
the best portions of Ireland. But I have already seen a 
country good enough in all that nature could do for it, but 
sadly disfigured by man's perversions. I have been up the 
noblest river Britain can boast. I have looked upon ver- 
dant hills, productive vales, and sparkling lakes, which 
would adorn the face of any country. And I have seen 
how much the pride of man can abuse the blessings of 
God — how degraded one can make an other. I turn my 
back upon the west of Ireland without regret, but thank- 
ful that I have seen it, and learned the workings of aristo- 
cratic institutions and religious bigotry, when ca'-ned to 
their legitimate results : and hoping to find yet some more 
redeeming qualities in the Emerald Isle. 

20* 



342 CANAL PACKET-BOATS. 

CHAPTER XI. 

DUBLIN. 

A Canal Boat. — A Conversation Overheard. — British and American Valor. 
— Personal Liberty essential to Prosperity. — First Principles to be studied. 
— Individual and Social Responsibility. — The Preparations adequate to a 
Republic. — Approach to Dublin. — Elegant Station-House. — Wellington 
Monument. — An Enthusiast. — The Shelter. — The Quays. — The Cuetom- 
House. — The Post-Office. — Nelson's Pillar. — Bridges. — Four Courts. — 
Parliament House. — Trinity College. — Revolutionary. — A Carmelite Fri- 
ar. — The Castle. — Saint Audoen. — Crowds of People. 

We are now transferred to a canal packet-boat, which, 
for neatness and accommodation, accords very well with 
what else we have seen along this route. It is more spa- 
cious and convenient than the one on which we rode from 
Limerick to Killaloe. The main cabin is wide enough for 
a stationary table, arranged close to a line of cushioned 
seats on one side, with barely room to pass and repass on 
the other. Though a night-hoat, there is not the least pre- 
paration for sleeping — not a pillow, quilt, or blanket. For- 
tunately for us, there are few passengers, and so we have 
a more comfortable prospect before us It is singular, that 
a company having the entire monopoly of a line of com- 
munication through the center of a country so densely 
populated as this, and connecting two of the principal cities, 
should, after so many years' experience, be unable to pro- 
vide no better means for the transport of passengers. Our 
own packet-boats are bad enough, as every body who has 
traveled in them can testify, but they are palaces, com- 
pared with these dark, dirty, lumbering affairs. Ours, espe- 
cially those upon the Erie canal, are light, neat, and airy ; 
and Yankee ingenuity has contrived a way to suspend pas- 
sengers for the night, where there is a possibility of getting 
a little of " nature's sweet restorer." It is not very com- 
fortable, I admit, to be hung up, three deep, by a tow 
string, and have the floor spread over with sleeping huma- 



TROUBLES OF DISTINCTIONS. 343 

nity, SO thick that one can not pass out of his prison to get 
a breath of pure air, without trampling under foot his fel- 
low beings ; but even that is better than no sleep at all. 
But here we are not troubled with a crowd of travelers. 
We have not enough to cheer us, as we look forward upon 
a flat and uninteresting country and a sleepless night. 

The contrast between the amount and comfort of travel- 
ing in this country and in ours, is indicative of the relative 
condition of the two nations. With us, all is enterprise 
and activity. Every body is agog after something, and a 
thousand topics of business, politics or religion will be dis- 
cussed, and every man feel free to take a part. Here 
there is no bustle, little sociability, and few tokens of con- 
tentment and prosperity. Arrangements for two classes 
of passengers, in such small dimensions, is attended with 
much inconvenience. They are troublesome every where. 
Pride and distinction always bring anxiety and trouble. 
He who cherishes the one, or is raised to the other, must 
either forget his humanity, and sunder the ties which 
should attach him to his fellow-men, or else, he must be 
constantly tormented with a series of annoyances from 
which the true man is always glad to be delivered. Some 
men will bear promotion without misery : because they 
forget not themselves nor their responsibilities. Such will 
bear adversity and the reproaches of the world with equal 
dignity. They are actuated by a spirit of nobleness which 
is unaffected by time, place, or circumstance, and, when 
the rich and the poor meet together, they remember that 
the " Lord is the maker of them all." But the institutions 
and very existence of this country are based upon aristo- 
cratic distinctions, which can not be touched, in any de- 
partment, without endangering the whole fabric. It would 
no more do to admit a free, democratic intercourse, and 
mutual respect and politeness between the classes, than it 
would for Southern men to admit their slaves to the bene- 
fits of a good education, and free intercourse with the peo- 
ple of the North. 



344 BOG OF ALLAN. 

The boat in which we are now ensconced has come 
from Balhnasloe, the end of the Grand canal, from which 
place it has brought three passengers of the first class, and 
as many of the second. An equal number from our boat 
make, all told, twelve. Of these, only three besides our- 
selves have a place in the main-cabin. Two of these are 
gentlemen, the other is a lawyer, all lusty loyalists, as we 
learn from their conversation. Two are bound to Tulla- 
more, to attend the assizes, the other to Dublin. This one 
I take for an Englishman, by the dignity he assumes, and 
the sneering and reproachful manner with which he speaks 
of every thing that is not English. The two former joined 
our company a few miles back ; the latter came from Bal- 
linasloe. 

After leaving the Shannon, the canal runs nearly parallel 
to the river Brosna, and not far from it, with few villages, 
houses, or demesnes, worth the trouble of inquiring so 
much as their names. In fact, we are now entered upon 
the celebrated and vast Bog of Allan, which covers an ex- 
tensive area, reaching nearly from the Shannon to the Irish 
sea, and spreading off to various widths, north and south. 
Elevated points project into it from both sides, and, in some 
places, hills attain the height of several hundred feet. 
Where the ground is sufficiently elevated, like islands in 
the sea, it is exceedingly fertile, and, it is said, most parts 
of it are capable of cultivation, by the aid of draining. 
The hills, to the north and south, in West Meath and 
King's counties, appear very beautiful, and, in many places, 
are seen the ruins of old castles, handsome plantations of 
trees, and well-cultivated lands, which give proof of what 
the hand of enlightened and liberal industry might accom- 
plish. But, generally, it is a broad expanse of deep peat, 
a cheei'less brown waste, relieved only by the villages and 
hamlets in the distance, with here and there a cultivated 
farm, and genteel residence, scattered at great distances 
from each other. 

After writing up my notes. I stretched myself upon the 



FOREIGN AID FOR IRELAND. 345 

seat, with my sac de nuit for a pillow, and overcoat for a 
coverlet. The Englishman was supping on tea, and a 
" loaf and butter." The two attorneys were chatting on 
various topics, such as the state trials going on in Dublin, 
the probable success of the rebel movement, and the mea- 
sures in progress to suppress it. In the course of the con- 
versation, mention was made of the expected interference 
of France, which was soon dismissed as an improbability, 
and as worthy of little notice, even if the new republic 
should be foolish enough to attempt to assist the "rebellious 
Irish Catholics." The Englishman thought there was 
" nothing to fear on that score, but that there was really 
cause to apprehend that the Americans would become 
deeply enlisted in behalf of the Repeal movement, inas- 
much as the last news had brought information of immense 
gatherings to express sympathy for this country, and to 
adopt measures to aid the rebels here." 

The fat Irishman at once joined, " There is no doubt 
of it, for a great many of the lower classes have gone to 
that country, who would neglect to do nothing to revenge 
themselves upon the landholders, of whose conduct 
they complain so bitterly. But they can accomplish no- 
thing." 

" There is no danger of the final result," added the 
Englishman, " though it might, for a time, cause us a good 
deal of trouble. We are abundantly able to fight the 
Americans, and beat them at any point." 

" Not the least," chimed in the other lawyer ; " but I do 
not believe there is the least danger of it. The Americans 
are too shrewd to venture upon a war with this country. 
They know too well the strength of our navy, and their 
own inability to cope with it." 

" I know it," said the Englishman ; " but I did fear, at 
one time, we should come to open hostilities on the Oregon 
question. If we had, there is no doubt we should have got 
the better of them in the end, and done better than we 
did by the compromise, for they would have been glad to 



346 ENGLISH AND AMERICAN 

have settled with us on an}' terms ; but it is far better that 
the two nations should live in peace with each other." 

" Most certainly it is," added the fat man, " for a war 
would injure us more than them. We are dependent upon 
them for cotton, and were, last year, for grain and other 
provisions. Great calamities would have befallen us if we 
had been at war at that time; our sufferings must have 
been indescribable." 

" Yes, and we should have suffered not a little by a di- 
rect conflict," joined the other; "for the United States 
have become a powerful nation, as their battles in Mexico 
abundantly prove. They have achieved some of the 
proudest victories which have ever graced the arms of 
any nation." 

" That is very true," remarked the Englishman ; " they 
are a courageous people, and valiant in their wars ; for, 
although we are so vastly their superiors, they contrived, 
by some means, to get the advantage of us in nearly all 
the battles of our last war with them, although their ves- 
sels generally carried fewer guns and men than ours." 

" It was so," added the fat lawyer, " and we were com- 
pelled to admit their superior heroism, for their numbers 
were always inferior, and yet, in almost every case, as you 
say, they contrived to gain the victory over our arms. 
America, it must be admitted, is becoming a mighty nation, 
one of the most powerful on earth, and will, if the States 
keep united, hold the balance of power. I did not think 
republicanism could be so favorable to a valorous spirit as 
it has proved to be in that country." 

" They are worthy of their origin," added the English- 
man, complacently, and in the true style and spirit of his 
countrymen. " They retain the blood of their ancestors, 
and it would be unnatural for them to go to war with us." 

" A war would be greatly deprecated, under any circum- 
stances," said the fat lawyer. " It is therefore to be hoped 
they will be too prudent to give any aid to the attempt of 
the insurgents in this country to overturn the government, 



VALOR COMPARED. 347 

for that would be a virtual declaration of war, and would 
be so understood and ti'eated by the Crown." 

We listened with a good deal of curiosity, and were not 
a little amused at the commentaries upon the valor of our 
nation as displayed in our past history. At one time, my 
national feeling was riled considerably, and I was tempted 
to obtrude a reply to their bragging about the ease with 
which our country could be whipped by old England, by 
referring them to New Orleans and some of our naval 
engagements. But I screwed up my self-control and kept 
silence, simply to learn what other people think of us, for 
no one suspected us of being Americans. And when they 
came to mention, in a side-way manner, the defeats their 
nation had sustained in its unnatural and unrighteous con- 
flicts with us, I felt more than revenged — I was proud at 
the confession ; for, peace-man as I am, I can not be indif- 
ferent to praise, when expressed under such circumstances. 
It seemed to be the fulfilment of a doggerel verse I used to 
hear sung when a boy. 

" We'll make old England's children know. 

We are the brave descendants 
Of them who flogg'd their fathers so. 

And gain'd their Independence." 

There is a feeling of selfishness wrapt up in all bosoms 
of which it is not easy to divest one's self This feeling 
expands, and adapts itself to circumstances — first, the indi- 
vidual, when all else seems to stand opposed to it ; next, the 
family and circle of particular friends ; then, the neighbor- 
hood, town, state, or nation. The highest and perfected 
state of the human soul is, when it comes to obey the Chris- 
tian law, and love God and all men, to feel an interest in the 
welfare of the race, rising above all personal, local, and na- 
tional considerations, and breathing the pure atmosphere 
of equal justice, and universal love and liberty. But, alas, 
for poor fallen humanity ; how few there are who are able 
to burst the fetters of exclusiveness which have been riveted 



348 THE ERRORS OF FEUDALISM. 

upon the first impressions of childhood, and been fastened 
closer by the advance of years, and a greater familiarity 
with the workings of social, political, and even religious 
intercourse and authority. The tendency of church and 
state has been to keep the soul contracted within the shell 
of a pure, or, at best, a mixed, selfishness ; and thus prevent 
the full development of those better principles which live 
deeply in the human heart, and manifest themselves under 
favorable circumstances, when the pure, warm sun of love 
and truth arouses them from their torpidity, and stirs them 
to high and noble action. There are times when every man 
will feel better than his actions indicate ; when his heart 
will relent at the sight of suffering itself has connived at ; 
and then a fearful sense of responsibility will suggest re- 
forms, and the adoption of new and more comprehensive 
systems of effort, which will accord with the advanced 
steps he has been able to take. 

The great hindrance in the way of human progress is 
found in the old and erroneous systems which had their 
origin in ages of darkness, when a spirit of pure selfishness 
governed the nations, and kings, priests, and nobles ruled 
with a rod of iron. From the highest to the lowest, every 
man played the tyrant over his fellow-man, and no two had 
an interest in common, or felt a responsibility too sacred to 
be broken at pleasure, unless it was the responsibility of 
dependence, and subjection. 

The aggregation of society, subsequent to the overthrow 
of the ancient order by the savage hordes of northern 
Europe, took place under circumstances unfavorable to the 
preservation of individual rights and personal freedom. 
Feudalism had its birth then, and the church sanctioned its 
pretensions for its own advantage. Might became the law 
of right, and religion served at its ^Itar. Holy oil, meant 
for the race by Him who established the "perfect law of 
liberty" and bade all men look into it, was stolen and secret- 
ed under the dark and solemn mysteries of the church, to 
be employed only in the consecration of the princes of 



IN CHURCH AND STATE 349 

temporal power, who first swore fealty to the godless de- 
mands of the priesthood. And thus an unnatural union 
was consummated which has produced a large progeny 
of monsters, which, though constantly becoming more and 
more imbecile, because less frightful, still infest the world, 
and inflict many miseries upon it by the law of succession 
and entail, by which alone the monarchies and hierarchies 
of the present day pretend to have any claim to respect or 
confidence. But monsters can not propagate their species. 

Individual character has been formed under such unfa- 
vorable influences, and it is no wonder that wrong, distrust, 
and oppression still disfigure it, dry up the sources of true 
philanthropy, and divest it of half its glory, by making it 
still a suppliant at the feet of religious pride, and political 
arrogance, content to bury itself under the dark folds of 
royal and priestly drapery. The human mind is not left 
free to prosecute its investigations except in directions 
which do not jeopardise the claims of superiors The Re- 
formation did much — most because it exhibited the spectacle 
to the world which has never been wholly obscured, that 
there is in human nature a power to resist, a right to pro- 
test, and a necessity for reform. It was not what Huss and 
Luther, and Zuinglius, and Calvin did, but what they begun 
to do, for which the world has reason to be grateful. 

It is a pity the governments of the earth, and the coun- 
cils ot the church, so soon sanctioned and adopted what, at 
first, was pronounced to be illegitimate. Caressed and 
pampered in the bosom of royal profligacy, the church soon 
became, itself, a profligate and looked with disdain upon 
the principles which gave it birth, if the mother church 
fretted and scolded at the partial disavowment, the ambi- 
tious potentates and young nobility which were hatched on 
the occasion, were abundantly satisfied, and royal injustice 
and oppression had no cause of complaint. The act itself 
was little more than the separation of the family. But 
that was complete, and a work was begun which must 
eventuate in the final deliverance from all temporal and 



350 DISORDER AND EXTRAVAGANCE. 

spiritual bondage, the setting up of a kingdom and dominion 
in which truth and righteousness shall rule supreme, and 
man be acknowledged the brother of his fellow-man. 

Such a time has not come yet, but faith sees it approach- 
ing. The promise and prophecy of Him who can not lie 
foretell it ; and the commotions, agitations, upheavings, and 
reactions of the world indicate it, for, on the whole, there is 
a progress — a religious, political, individual, and social pro- 
gress. Confusion must always precede order, and change, 
improvement ; as the breeze precedes the shower, and dark- 
ness the light. Fire is produced by collision, and before 
the sun shone, " darkness was upon the face of the mighty 
deep." Old forms must be reduced to a state of fusion, or 
be in solution before principles can be precipitated, and new 
forms be assumed by the primary law of adhesion or crys- 
talization. So the incrustation of society must be broken 
up, and men be led back of " magna chartas," and the 
mis-shapen forms of aristocracy, to first principles, and the 
primitive laws by which God governs the world and holds 
every man, and society itself, responsible to answer as it 
has answered in time past, and will do again before a more 
fearful judgment which is approaching, and which no man 
can escape. 

Of course, disorder, confusion, and, in some cases, mad 
extravagance will attend such a breaking up of the founda- 
tions of the mighty deep, into which individuals and nations 
have been plunged by the accumulate oppressions of cen- 
turies, which kings, priests, and courtiers have inflicted upon 
an unsuspicious and long-suffering community ; and no won- 
der, if creatures who have forgotten their manhood to make 
themselves distinguished, and to live in ease and affluence 
without the labor of meriting a decent livelihood, should be 
most loud and bitter in their complaints. Whose pride was 
ever humbled, or his sins rebuked, without a murmur ? Nor 
would it be a very strange procedure if vengeance should 
seem sweet to those so long neglected, oppressed, and 
abused, when it comes their turn to say, in the language of 



THE PRECURSOR OF IMPROVEMENT. 351 

old, " how art thou become as one of us?" And yet it is a 
fact, not to be passed without notice, that the most inhuman 
outrages have generally been committed in the name and 
under the sanction of what the nations have regarded " law 
and order." Multitudes are not easily incited to demonstra- 
tions of revenge, for all will not be passionate alike at the 
same moment. But a despot, in whose hands are the lives 
of inillions, used to the free exercise of his uncurbed will, 
may put thousands to death, merely to prevent the least in- 
vasion of his absolute sovereignty over his fellow mortals, 
who are morally and intellectually as good and wise as him- 
self, and no one may open his mouth but at his peril ! 

In the sight of God and reason, wherein is the life of 
a man covered with tinseled robes, with a few gems in the 
cap he wears, better than any other man's ? Was he not 
born naked and helpless as any other child ? Does he not 
eat, and drink, and sleep like other men ? Will not cor- 
ruption and worms devour his body as soon ? Do not 
others feel pain as keenly as he ? Where, then, is the 
proof of his "divine right," and in what is his life and 
happiness more sacred than an other's ? Then why should 
the slaying of a king be magnified into a regicide, which 
demands a severer censure than the thousands slain by that 
same king's command ? Is there greater enormity in one 
case than in the other, when weighed in the scales of eternal 
justice ? Why, then, should it be thought an act of so 
great abhorrence when the people, the masses, attempt to 
test their manhood, by standing up before priests and 
princes, and proclaiming, in God's name, the natural and 
eternal law of equal rights and mutual responsibility, by 
which society should be governed ? And why should men 
be of faint heart while the struggle for such liberty is go- 
ing on ? Rather should the true and faithful be of good 
courage, and " hope unto the end," for such a victory shall 
be won — such a triumph is as certain as that a just God 
rules in the " armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants 
of earth." No power of kings, no machinations of priests 



352 



JUSTIFICATIONS FOR A REPUBLIC. 



and politicians can prevent it. He who holds the hearts 
of all men in his hand, and can turn them at His pleasure, 
before whom the nations are as nothing, and less than va- 
nity, will hearken to the cry of the oppressed, and give 
liberty to captives ! Even so ! 

Such were some of the reflections which floated through 
my mind, as I listened to the conversation of these admi- 
rers of royalty and supporters of exclusive privileges, 
and my night visions were haunted by striking contrasts 
between the actual condition and prospects of Europe and 
my own country. I felt that I was approaching the very 
scenes of which report had brought the most exciting ac- 
counts before I left home ; that I was near the vortex of 
that fearful crater, where the elements of royalty, feudal- 
ism, and aristocratic privileges, were melting, and fusing 
together, and the democratic principle was assuming new 
and strange forms — hideous and alarming to those unfami- 
liar with the workings of free thought, as manifested in the 
changed relations of social life. I confess, that with all 
my love and admiration of the largest liberty, and glowing 
sympathy with the common people, and hearty detestation 
of the arrogant and wicked pretensions to any thing like 
special right, and privilege, and superiority, except that' 
founded upon actual, personal merit, I could not forbear 
the thought that it was a fortunate time when the republi- 
can principles of our government were proclaimed, and 
that ours is a peculiar people. 

Few nations are equal to the establishment of a demo- 
cratic republic. The love of power and privilege has too 
deep a hold on most hearts ; and the masses are too igno- 
rant of their own strength, and the proper method of using 
it — are too little inclined to combine and act in union — are 
too easily deluded from the support of their principles, and 
defence of their rights, by the flatteries and vain promises 
of intriguers, who will do any thing to make game of 
them, and to assist the nefarious designs of crafty, plotting 
men, whose selfishness controls every other sentiment of 



PRINCIPLE ESSENTiAL TO FREEDOM. 353 

their souls, and makes them the oppressors of their fellow- 
men, invaders of the most sacred rights God has vouch- 
safed to the sons of men. And I already see the mighty 
obstacles to be encountered by those whose views have 
outgrown the institutions under which they live, and whose 
aspirations move them to undertake the work of self- 
deliverance. 

There is here, as every where, a class of men who have 
gifts, and claim to be wise, who are in the market, ready 
to be bought up by the party offering the highest price. 
Principle with them is nothing but an article of traffic — 
a proposition on which to found a plea, if it suit their turn. 
Such will stand by their clients to the last, for their fee de- 
pends upon it. LFnfortunately, this class too often enjoys 
the confidence of the masses, who, modest in their con- 
scious incapacity, look with trusting favor upon their fair 
pretensions and solenui asseverations, and are too often be- 
trayed into conditions more wretched and hopeless than 
those from which they undertook to deliver themselves. 
Ours was a young nation. There were no leaders. The 
people went for themselves. Each felt that he was free : 
that none had any right to exercise authority over him. 
The government was the voice of the whole concentrated, 
and the Constitution the rule by which that voice should be 
uttered. But here there is little chance for such a revolu- 
tion. The people are not capable. 

In the first place the m.asses are not informed. They 
have no consciousness of their own rights. Secondly, they 
are not united. No common sympathy attracts them to- 
gether. They are alike dissatisfied with the government, 
and complain bitterly of their wrongs. But what one con- 
demns an other approves. They have no confidence in 
their leaders, nay, not so much as in one an other. They 
have no principle of union, no one point of agreement. 
What can be expected from this state of distraction but 
failure in everv attempt that shall be made ? It was union 
that gave success to the American cause. All jealousies 

30* 



354 WANT OF UNITY. 

were banished, local considerations waived, and the co- 
lonies united as with the heart of one man. They strug- 
gled together, and triumphed. There is no such feeling 
here. The hostility is common, but nothing else. The 
whole country is split into fragments, and the factions are 
bitter and unrelenting in their hate. The energies of the 
people are destroyed, for in nothing can they make com- 
mon cause. Religion, and politics, and local prejudices, 
imbitter their feelings, and, except in their hatred of the 
English government, there is no agreement among them. 
They would as soon fight one of their own countrymen, 
from Ulster or Connaught, an " Orange-man," a " Ribbon- 
man," a "Molly Maguire," or "Corkonian," as a red-coat 
of the Queen's army. The meaning and force of that 
new and expressive word " fraternization" is not under- 
stood ; and nothing — yes, nothing, can be done. They 
will not act in concert. O'Brien and Mitchel are Protest- 
ants. Some others are Catholics. But all agreement be- 
tween these leaders is looked upon with suspicion by the 
masses ; and division and failure must ensue. It can not 
be avoided. 

We passed, during the night, Tullamore, the present, and 
Phillipstown, the former capital of King's county, and 
some other smaller towns. The former I should judge to 
be a place of considerable business, and of modern and re- 
spectable appearance. The others we did not see. Most 
of the way, J am told, the land is low, boggy, and unculti- 
vated, with only here and there a plantation or a village. 

On going upon deck, this morning, I found some addi- 
tion had been made to the list of our passengers, for seve- 
ral were stretched about, sleeping with no covering but the 
lid of night, hung about with a drapery of clouds. The 
heavy dew had wet their thin, coarse garments, but they 
heeded it not. Men and women were lying about promis- 
cuously, and with little regard to the rules of delicacy. 

We met with nothing to cheer the sluggishness of our 
spirits till we arrived at Sallins, where we were trans- 



APPROACH TO DUBLIN. 355 

ferred to the cars which conveyed us to Dublin. The 
country continues to improve as we approach the city. 
Industry has turned the natural richness of the soil to a 
better account. Good taste is displayed in the order and 
neatness of the houses, and grounds about them. The ap- 
proach to Dublin is remarkably beautiful, exceeded by few 
cities, especially if seen as I saw it, after a wearisome 
journey, amid destitution and misery, and on a clear, sweet 
spring morning. 

Before us opened the sweet valley of the LifTey ; ex- 
panding as it reaches off to the sea ; reflecting, in the dis- 
tance, the slanting rays of the early sun upon its mirror- 
surface. The tall spires, and loftier towers, partially en- 
veloped in hazy clouds of smoke, indicated the locality of 
the city. On the right towered, in the distance, a range 
of sombre hills, trending east and south, whose nether 
ridges were not yet illumined by the rising sun. All 
around us was a beautifully undulating champaign coun- 
try, with some richly cultivated lands, elegant plantations, 
and princely mansions scattered about ; while behind, as 
we fondly believed, were left the lonely bogs, the dilapida- 
ted hovels, and the gaunt forms of oppressed and famine- 
stricken humanity which had marred so much of the coun- 
try through which we had passed. An oasis had, at last, 
been reached, in what had been, hitherto, comparatively a 
human desert, and henceforth the brighter, the sunny side 
of Irish life only was to appear. Dublin was to efface — to 
atone for all the rougher social aspects of the country of 
which it was the boasted capital — to be the diamond set in 
pearls, glittering, in its repose, on the bosom of the Eme- 
rald Isle. 

Fond delusion ! how quickly dispelled ! A brief half- 
hour brought us to the city, and tumbled in ruins the beau- 
tiful castle which our imagination had reared. Here, as in 
all the places I have visited, were presented the extremes 
of wealth and refinement, and want and moral degradation. 
Here, where had been located our Irish paradise, fell on the 



356 RAILROAD STATION. 

ear the old note of, " An' may the Almighty God give ye 
moony blessings an' a happy journey, an' ye'Il be giving me 
a ha'-penny, to buy bread for till ate." 

" It is Ireland still," remarked my friend, as we passed 
out of the station-house. 

" Who can doubt it," I replied, '' with such unquestiona- 
ble proofs of the fact before us ?" 

Then came the usual retinue of car-men and porters, and 
all the attendant nuisances of such localities. We did not 
rush through the multitude, but stopped to take a look at the 
buildings of the " Depot" — Stations, they call them here, 
as we ought to in our country. " Depots" are for goods ; 
" Stations" for passengers.* It is a remarJcably light and 
airy building, but of immense size. I did not measure it, 
but should guess it to be, at least, five hundred feet long, 
and one hundred and fifty wide. Eight tracks are laid with 
spaces for carriages and walks for foot passengers. The 
side-walls of the main building are of brick, but all the 
rest, columns and roof, is of iron. A line of windows, on 
both sides of the ridge, makes it as light as if there was no 
cover. The walls, posts, rods, and under side of the roof 
are all painted white. A large platform, where the baggage 
is received and delivered, on one side of which are the 
baggage rooms and offices for the sale of tickets, is kept 
clear of all persons not employed by the company. Be- 
yond this is the main entrance to the building, the rooms 
for passengers, and offices for the transaction of business. 
This portion is in process of completion. It is a massive 
structure, of hewn stone, richly sculptured, and every way 
grand and beautiful. 

As I looked upon its swelling buttresses, its lofty tower, 
and its smaller turrets, its arched door ways, and ornamented 
windows, and thought of the condition of the people, and 
the old castles I had seen, I could not refrain from thinking 

* Even in France and Germany the English word "station" — sta-ci-on — 
Bta-ti-on is used. Railroads are of English origin, and hence the word. Singu- 
lar we should borrow a French word. It is bad taste, and worse judgment. 



UTILITV BEFORE EXTRAVAGANCE. 357 

\ha.t feudalis?n still lives — lives in all its force and tyranny, 
but changed from man to money, which is now the lord, 
while the poor people are vassals still, and as much as ever 
crouch beneath its ponderous burthens. It is said the rear- 
ing of such structures gives employment to the people, and 
scatters money and comforts among them. If it does, it 
soon recalls it and leaves the result of labor piled into a 
mass, to be controlled by a monopoly which looks to some- 
thing else than the permanent improvement of the laboring 
classes. Pride and interest so befog the minds of corpora- 
tions that the blood and sweat of the laborer, the comforts 
of his wife and education of his children, are not often seen 
to be of much consequence, by what scattered fragments 
may be left. The feudal lord loved his vassals in propor- 
tion as they served his pride and interest. What do cor- 
porations more, whether employed in railroads, coal mines, 
steam navigation, or the manufactories of cotton or woollen 
goods, cutlery, or paper money, or in rearing proud temples 
for the service of the humble Nazarene ? 

It would be well enough to lay out money in any piece 
of foolish extravagance, if such extravagance did not foist 
a class into a position permanently pernicious to the inte- 
rests of the common people — if, as in early christian days, 
" all things were to be common." But the very fact that 
such dead works, as can not be made useful, are the privileges 
of the few, and calculated to excite a feeling of envy and 
discontent in the breasts of those who can never aspire to 
possess them, nor their like, is enough to make their con- 
struction of doubtful utility. As works of art they are very 
well, for all can look at them, and they become common 
property. As castles for the rich, and palaces for the proud, 
be they individuals or bodies, they are pernicious, and be- 
token an evil spirit, because partial and exclusive. I do 
not object that a man should build his house to suit his taste 
and promote his comfort ; it is his right, and no man should 
oppose or restrict the exercise of it ; but if he robs te7i men 
of their houses to do it, the moral of the act is questionable 



358 



THE USEFUL BEFORE THE ARTIFICIAL. 



— I think the act itself reprehensible. The rearing of this 
Station-house is ver}' well ; and those ornaments look very 
fine, but they contrast badly with the poverty and suffering 
about them — like a jewel in a swine's snout. 

Mark, gentle reader, I do not object that these things are 
done, but that the other is left undone. This may be the 
means of elevating and improving the masses, and promoting 
general prosperity, but the history of the past renders it 
very doubtful. Convenience before extravagance, comfort 
before ornament, nature before art, respect and love for all 
before the apotheosis of a few. Such is the spirit of the 
true, the working of the good. Philanthropy — a broad, 
limitless benevolence, which stoops to relieve the wants of 
the humblest sufferer of wrong, now calls aloud and asks to 
be heard. Humanity is the thesis to be studied ; its rights, 
its duties, its developments, are the problems to be solved. 
Christianity must be made practical. A sound wisdom 
must mould anew the plastic elements of society, now fused 
and solved by the fervid revolutions of the past. The 
nebulous sky is clearing up ; the misty darkness disappears. 
Rays of light and hope are breaking through from every 
quarter of heaven. A better day is coming. Some turgid 
forms still live. Monarchy has not doffed his crown, nor 
superstition her cowl, nor pride her feathered cap, but know- 
ledge in the hands of the people, will lay the heads of all 
bare, and justice claim her right. Righteousness shall 
dwell in the earth, and liberty be established. Such is the 
purpose of God. Who shall hinder it ? 



CITY OF DUBLIN 



On quitting the station, the first object that met our eye 
was the massive obelisk of Wellington, erected in honor of 
that illustrious Irishman. It stands on the opposite bank of 
the Liffey, at the entrance to Phoenix Park, and makes 
an imposing appearance. The base upon which it stands 
can not be less than a hundred feet square, and twenty 



AN ENTHUSIAST. 359 

feet high, which is ascended by steps. The pedestal must be 
over fifty feet square and twenty high, from which the obelisk, 
about twenty feet square, rises, I should think, a hundred 
and fifty feet, tapering gradually to the summit, making the 
entire height two hundred feet. The sides of the shaft are 
lettered with the names of the places where the " noble 
Duke" displayed his skill in killing his fellow-men, beginning 
with India and endmg with Waterloo. On one side of it is 
a pedestal designed to support an equestrian statue of the 
hero, when he has himself rode into eternity. 

Following the street on the right bank of the Liflfey, we 
soon found ourselves in a handsome and busy city. Splen- 
did bridges, elegant buildings, gay shops, and a busy people, 
impressed us favorably with the town, Without much 
trouble, we found our way to the house to which we had 
been recommended by a Quaker friend, whom we met on 
our way up the Shannon. 

Having secured our lodgings, we started out to take a 
view of the city, and see and learn what we could of the 
capital of the kingdom. We had no guide, no plan ; barely 
a general idea of what was to be seen in the way of public 
buildings, parks, and people. Resolved to make the best 
use of our time, we commenced on a street leading south, 
turning off to the east, and so round by the north, to prevent 
the necessity of going over the same ground again. 

The first portion looked old and neglected, but respecta- 
ble. We soon came to a better portion, where the streets 
were wide, the buildings new, and every thing neat and 
elegant. Stopping to look at a new and handsome church, 
we were accosted by a man who volunteered to describe it, 
and also give a lecture on the heresy of the doctrines taught 
in it, and the abominations of the papal practices performed 
in an other near by. From these he passed to an other theme 
and undertook to enlighten us upon some peculiar points 
of theology he thought himself commissioned to advocate. 
Whether the fellow was an enthusiast or a maniac, I could 
not determine, for the resemblance, in such cases, is often 



360 TllK SHELTER. 

SO intimate that it is difficult to do so. We bore with him 
till om* patience failed us. We tried to treat him respect- 
fully ; but, in such cases, that is not enough, for such men 
claim a sort of "divine right,"' analogous to the authority 
of kings. He insisted on our hearing him through, and 
even threatened us if, we would not embrace his peculiar 
notions, with the most terrible punishments. We told him 
we had come to Ireland to see and learn something about 
the actual in human condition ; the theological we had at 
home, in all its varieties ; and, besides, we did not think the 
open street a proper place for lectures on religious topics. 
He persisted in his right to our patient attention, and became 
so earnest in his harangue that our Yankeeism would en- 
dure it no longer and we started. He followed us with 
bitter threats and fearful imprecations, for spurning his of- 
fered grace. 

Well, thought I, there is every thing here to produce agi- 
tation — the elements of a fervid and eternal antagonism, 
the sources of the bitterest and most resentful malice, as 
well as the widest disparity in the temporal condition of the 
people. But my friend said the fellow was crazy, although 
he claimed to be a preacher to a large congregation. 

A little farther on, we came to the '" Shelter," a benevo- 
lent institution, founded for the protection and reformation 
of discharged female convicts. Having taken some inte- 
rest in a like institution in our own city, established in con- 
nexion with the " Prison Discipline Society," we desired to 
inquire into the workings of one which had existed long 
enough to test the humane experiment. Accordingly, with 
true Yankee impertinence, we presented ourselves at the 
door, and asked to see the matron. We were invited into 
a neat sitting-room, by a young woman of very respectable 
appearance. In a few minutes the matron entered. We 
introduced ourselves as strangers from America ; but as 
friends of the race, and lovers of virtue and benevolence, 
every where; and as anxious to inquire into the processes 
and progress of philanthropy in the older country. She 



ITS MANAGEMENT. 361 

received us cordially, and entered, at once, into an expla- 
nation of the origin, progress, and condition of tiie institu- 
tion under her charge. It is a voluntary society, sustained 
by private benevolence and the industry of the inmates. 
Like all such institutions, it has had many difficulties to 
encounter, not the least of which have been produced by 
religious hostility. There are some people who must have 
every thing done in their own way, and all the honor ap- 
propriated to a particular sect or party, or they w\\\ do no- 
thing, but prevent all they can. The " Shelter" has exist- 
ed several years, and outlived, in part, such hostility, and 
has now many friends among the benevolent of various 
names and ranks. Here, in addition to the religious castes 
of our country, there are the social and political to be en- 
countered. 

The matron, I should judge, from her dress, is a Qua- 
keress in her associations. She is an immensely large wo- 
man, larger than the Superior we saw in the school at Li- 
merick. My friend says she is the largest woman he ever 
saw. She is over six feet, and well proportioned ; rather 
masculine, but modest and agreeable. She conducted us 
about the establishment, contrary to the custom not to allow 
gentlemen to visit it. In consideration of the interest we 
manifested, and for the regard she cherished for every 
Amei'ican, she wished to signify to us some peculiar honor. 
Every part of the building exhibited the marks of the ut- 
most neatness and order. Every thing was like wax- work, 
from the coal-cellar to the dormitories in the garret. The 
principle employment of the inmates is washing and iron- 
ing. For this purpose most excellent arrangements are 
made, with boilers, tubs, water, tables, heaters — every thing 
necessary for convenience and dispatch. The house is 
kept well aired, and the inmates are remarkably healthy ; 
scarcely a case of sickness has occurred in several years. 
The inmates themselves look neat and healthy, and some 
of them, in their personal appearance, are really handsome ; 
none are ugly. The spoiler always seeks the fairest ob- 

31 



362 DIFFICULTIES AND SUCCESSES. 

jects. Beauty and prettiness are always dangerous — often 
ruinous for a female, unless accompanied by strong moral 
and religious principle, the only safeguard against the se- 
ductions of flattery, and the treachery of wicked men. 
These unfortunate women appeared contented and cheer- 
ful, with a few exceptions, and these, we were told, were 
of recent admission. They modestly noticed us as we 
passed, and kept busy at their work. 

I have forgotten the number of inmaies at present in the 
" Shelter." The matron, Mrs. Moore, informed us that the 
institution nearly supported itself, and would quite, if it 
could have custom sufficient to employ them all the time. 
Some objected to giving them their work, and the competi- 
tion is so great, occasioned by so many girls being out of 
employ, that they were obliged both to reduce the price, 
and suffer for the want of custom. Generally speaking, 
she assured us, the girls for whom she had obtained places, 
had turned out well. But it was very difficult to get good 
places for them. Many people are prejudiced against re- 
ceiving one who has been with her, and others are not 
disposed to treat them well. Some, after leaving her, had 
been neglected and abused, became discouraged and fell. 
She thought, if she was in this country, she could do much 
better — that our prejudices are less, and our hearts more 
liberal, and that the reformed would be more cherished, 
and the penitent more readily forgiven I was sorry to be 
compelled to correct her mistake, and to assure her that, 
with all our love for liberty, and approval of goodness, and 
sympathy for the oppressed, our Christianity has not taught 
us " to receive such ones" into our confidence, and encou- 
rage them to keep, henceforth, the path of innocence. We 
are all too unforgiving ; and thousands now welter in infa- 
my, who might have been saved by the helping hands of 
generous and forgiving professors. Society has fearful re- 
sponsibilities, and Christians too, for the sins of omission, 
for which both must answer, at a just tribunal. 

She thought that our western country offered opportuni- 



THE SUFFICIENCY OF LOVE. 363 

ties lor the settlement of people beyond the reach of city 
temptations, where the weakest virtue could be nourished 
and become strong. I found she labored under the too 
common mistake, that America is a paradise of purity and 
plenty, where the poor can be fed, the wicked restored, and 
all made happy. It was sad for me that I had, so often, to 
break the illusion, and dispel the charm, by a sober descrip- 
tion of the reality. Justice demanded it, that the contem- 
plated projects so often indulged might not lead to unfore- 
seen disaster. 

One thing I admired very much, in the system of govern- 
ment established in the " Shelter." It is purely parental, 
and based on " love." The matron assured us that no 
other would succeed. The least show of severity, not ac- 
companied by an expression of love, w^as most fatal. The 
experiment, on the old principle, had been made, and sig- 
nally failed. She had taken the opposite course, to the en- 
tire satisfaction of all. Better order, more work, and 
truer reforms were the result. She believed it utterly im- 
possible to govern an institution of this kind, successfully, 
in any other way. These poor, crushed creatures must be 
encouraged, persuaded, led ; they can not be driven, and it 
is worse than needless to attempt it. She narrated some 
incidents which had occurred in the course of her experi- 
ence, to sustain this position, which forcibly illustrated the 
sufficiency of love to correct the vices of the most de- 
praved. I felt my heart rejoiced at this new proof of the 
power of love, and thanked my God that these Christian 
principles were finding a practical adoption in the reforma- 
tion of the deluded and abandoned in this community. I 
felt stronger and better resolved than ever. We left, after 
mutual expressions of pleasure and thankfulness for this 
accidental visit to this work-house of Christian philanthro- 
py and reform. 

From thence we wandered along the quays, which are 
no more than continuous walls on each side of the river, 
for a distance of more than two miles. These walls are 



364 THE LIFFEY. 

of hewn granite, very solidly and handsomely built, serving 
both for the protection of the streets which front the river, on 
both sides, and for wharves on which to discharge goods from 
the vessels lying beside them. Above the bridges, little use is 
made of them for the latter purpose, the river being too 
shallow to admit of boating at low water. The Liftey, I 
should remark, would be reputed a small affair in our coun 
try. It is not so large as the Charles river at Boston, the 
Blaclvstone at Providence, or the Mohawk where it enters 
the Hudson. 

We noticed a large number of coal boats, schooners, 
and small brigs lying along the south quay, with their 
bows to the shore, like a row of steamboats at St. Louis, 
from which the coals in sacks are discharged on the backs 
of laborers, over narrow gang-planks arranged along the 
side of the bow-sprits. Hard looking fellows are those 
engaged in this service. 

Nearly every thing in this country seems to be done at 
the greatest disadvantage. Perhaps it is well it is so, for, 
by this means, employment is given to many who might 
otherwise be idle ; but the consequent high price of every 
thing on which such needless labor is employed is a draw- 
back upon the economy of such a procedure. In our coun- 
try a horse and a boy would do the labor of half a dozen 
men engaged in this business. These sacks, holding, per- 
haps, two bushels, were arranged along the quay, with men 
about them waiting to make sales to such customers as 
might come along. 

We saw no docks, except one at the Custom-house, and 
a small one at the outlet of the Grand canal. There is not 
a large amount of shipping in port, beyond the small vessels 
engaged in the coasting trade, mostly in the coal business. 
On one or two ships we noticed the stars and stripes float- 
ing proudly, and they looked better to us than we ever saw 
them before. We counted twelve steamers, black, dirty 
things, which form regular lines to England, Scotland, and 
different ports in this country. We went on board of one 



THE CUSTOM-HOUSE. 365 

of the largest, and surveyed the different parts of it. At 
home we should hardly think it fit for a tow-boat for emi- 
grants. The main cabin was tolerable — expensive enough ; 
but lacking the neat and airy appearance of our boats. Be- 
yond this, no respect seemed to be paid to the convenience 
of passengers. 

The streets, public buildings, private houses, and sub- 
stantial bridges along the LifFey, are objects of great attrac- 
tion, and much of to-day has been spent in viewing them. 
We crossed the river over the Carlisle Bridge to see the 
Custom-House, the elegant front of which we had seen 
while coming down Westmoreland street. This is the first 
bridge over the LifFey, up to which the smaller vessels can 
sail. The view from it is exceedingly grand. The bay, the 
shipping, the river, crossed by seven or eight bridges, over 
which teams and pedestrians were constantly passing and re- 
passing, the long lines of stately buildings, on either side of 
the river, the famous Sackville street with the general post- 
office, and other splendid buildings, hotels and shops, and 
the monument of Lord Nelson in the center, with a gen- 
eral view of the city rising on both sides. I never looked 
on a city prospect more varied and attractive. The 
bridge itself is built of hewn stone, on three arches, and 
is over two hundred feet long and forty wide. 

We loitered about the Custom-House some time, observ- 
ing the building and the mode of doing business. We were 
most taken with the ornaments which decorate it, some 
of which appeared to be strangely out of place. For ex- 
ample, on the south front, over the pillars of the portico, 
there are statues of Neptune, Mercury, Plenty and Industry. 
What, in the name of humanity, thought I, has Plenty to 
do with her cornucopia here ? It should be t'other end up^ 
at any rate, while the multitudes of the people are famish- 
ing with hunger. And Mrs. Industry seems to find few 
worshippers in this land of general idleness. As for Messrs. 
Neptune and Mercury, they find little to do here, unless it 
be to carry away. The}' bring no messages of good from 

31* 



366 THE POST-OFFICE. 

the gods, (lords) Jove or Juno, (John or Victoria,) Mars or 
Pluto — Thor and Hungr. And then the device on the pedi- 
ment, in alto relievo, representing the union of England 
and Ireland, by Neptune driving away Famine and despair, 
should be changed by making Neptune lead the fleet to sus- 
tain famine, oppression, and despair, while the latter should 
take the place now occupied by Hope, on the top of the 
dome, the flukes of whose anchor have no longer a hold in 
Irish hearts. 

The Post-Oflice is an elegant and massive building, front- 
ing over two hundred feet on Sackville street, which is 
here a dozen rods wide. The front portico is eighty feet 
wide, with six coarse fluted Ionic columns, the whole sur- 
mounted by a rich entablature. Here, too, a false represen- 
tation is made ; Hibernia is seen in the centre, leaning on 
her spear, and holding a shield — the former should be broken, 
the latter thrown under her feet. On the right is Mercury, 
with his caduceus and purse — the purse should be empty; 
the serpents on the wand are well enough. On the left is 
Fidelity with her finger to her lips, and a key in her hand — 
it should be Mercury touching her lips with his wand, for it 
is British traffic which keeps Ireland silent, though ever 
faithful. 

Nearly in front of the Post-Office is Nelson's Pillar, a 
single Doric column, over one hundred feet high, with a 
statue of the celebrated naval commander on the top, lean- 
ing against the capstan of a ship. A winding stairway 
goes up the interior, by which the curious ascend to take a 
view of the city. 

There are numerous elegant buildings in this part of the 
city which exhibit taste, good judgment, and abundant 
means ; but none of them are of modern construction. 
They tell of better days ; days that are past, it is feared, 
never to return. 

After strolling off" to the north-east or upper part of the 
city, and taking a look at the elegant churches, residences, 
and respectable streets in that part, we returned and 



ELEGANT BRIDGES. 367 

finished our examination of the bridges. Two of the 
most elegant are the Richmond and Whitworth, connected 
by a handsome iron balustrade, running along the quay 
wall, from one to the other, seven or eight hundred feet, in 
front of the Four Courts. The former has three arches, 
the key-stones of which are ornamented with the heads of 
Peace, Hibernia, and Commerce, on one side, and Plenty, 
Liffey, and Industry, on the other. The latter is also a 
handsome structure, on the site of the oldest bridge over 
the LifFey. Above these are Queen's, King's, Barrack, and 
Sarah bridges, and below, the Essex, Metal, and Carlisle. 
These are all substantial and elegant works, connecting 
both parts of the city, which are nearly equal. The Me- 
tal and King's bridges are of iron, forming single ellipti- 
cal arches, of about one hundred feet span. The Sarah 
bridge, called, also, the Irish Rialto, after the celebrated 
bridge of Venice, it being somewhat wider, consists, also, 
of a single arch, of one hundred and four feet, the key- 
stone of which is thirty feet above the bed of the river. 

On the north side, not far from the Wellington monu- 
ment, is the military hospital, a splendid pile of buildings, 
situated on a high terrace, with a spacious court opening 
towards the river. Companies of soldiers, in health, are 
quartered here to help protect the diseased city from a col- 
lapse. There is no room for them in any of the barracks. 
All are crowded to their utmost capacity. 

In the heart of the city, are the Four Courts, one of the 
grandest structures we have yet seen. It fronts on the 
river four hundred and sixty feet, standing back from the 
wide street which passes between it and the quay. It 
consists of a main building, with wings extending on 
each side, from the rear, and coming out to the front line 
of the center, leaving open squares, which are shielded 
from the street by screens of rustic masonry, surmounted 
by stone balustrades. Over the entrance gate to the east 
square, is the Harp of Ireland, attended by statues of 
Justice, Security, and Law, on a shield resting on law- 



368 THE FOUR COURTS. 

books, bound together by a serpent. Over the west is the 
shield of Royalty, wreathed in oak leaves. The wings 
contain the offices of the different courts. The center 
building contains the rooms of the fowr courts — "Queen's 
Bench," ■' Common Pleas," " Exchequer," and " Chancery," 
all civil courts. The criminal court is in an other part of 
the city. In the center of the main building there is a 
circle, over fifty feet in diameter, from the side of which, 
at right angles, radiate the Four Courts, towards the cor- 
ners of the building. The entrance to each court-room is 
between double rows of Corinthian columns, twenty-five 
feet high, fluted in the lower third. The rooms, we were 
told, wei'e of equal size, and handsomely furnished. The 
keeper was not permitted to open them to us. Between 
the courts are offices for the jurors, judges, master of the 
rolls, and so forth, the entrances to which are by the passages 
leading into the circular hall from the four sides of the 
building. The spaces between these passage-ways and the 
pillared entrances to the court rooms, are ornamented with 
sunken pannels and niches. Above all is a rich entabla- 
ture, extending entirely round, from which arises a dome, 
open at the top, the ceiling of which represents mosaics. 
Through the aperture in the dome, is seen a superior dome, 
in the lantern which crowns the summit of the edifice, like 
the dome of the Exchange, in Wall-street. In rooms 
around this dome, are kept certain records of the court 
of Queen's Bench, the keeper informed us, v^^hich are 
drawn up through the aperture in the dome, by means of 
puUies provided for that purpose. The front of the main 
building presents a handsome portico, of six Corinthian co- 
lumns, with pilasters, on which rests a heavy pediment, 
upon the apex of which is a statue of Moses, with Justice 
on one side, and Mercy on the other, and, on the extremes. 
Wisdom and Authority. — The latter should be removed to 
the center, and all the rest taken down, for what have Jus- 
tice, and Mercy, and Wisdom to do in Ireland, now ? Mo- 
ses misht be retained with his law of " blood for blood, an 



PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 3G9 

eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." Behind this pile 
is a range of buildings more modern, for the accommoda- 
tion of lawyers, consulting-rooms, eating-rooms, a bank- 
ruptcy court — accommodation for the outside business of 
litigation. On the whole, this structure has pleased me 
most of any thing I ever saw of the kind. 

Adjoining the Four Courts is St. Paul's church, a hand- 
some modern building, with a front of hewn granite, the 
portico of the Ionic order, and surmounted with a chaste 
bell-tower and cupola. 

Crossing the Essex bridge, which is said to be an exact 
copy of Westminster bridge, London, we took a hasty look 
at the old Parliament House, now the Bank of Ireland. It is, 
as a specimen of architectural design, superior to the Cus- 
tom House or Four Courts, and said to be inferior to 
nothing of the kind in Europe. Its center fronts on Col- 
lege Green ; the east front on College-street ; the west, on 
Foster Place. The central front is formed, on three sides, 
of a colonnade of Ionic columns, resting on flights of 
steps ascending from the court-yard, separated from the 
street by a screen- wall. The colonnade is entered at each 
end, through handsome archways. Over the center co- 
lumns is raised an elegant pediment, ornamented with the 
royal arms, and a statue of Hibernia on the apex, with Fi- 
delity on one side, and Commerce on the other. The east 
front has a splendid portico of Corinthian columns, which 
sustain a pediment surmounted with a statue of Fortitude, 
in the center, Justice on the right, and Liberty (!) on the 
left. The west front has a portico of Ionic columns, 
crowned with a plain pediment. Connected with this 
front by a splendid archway, is a guard-room, for the ac- 
commodation of the soldiers stationed here to protect the 
treasures of the bank. We noticed sentinels on duty at 
the entrances to the building. Money, monarchs, and mili- 
tary stores require body-guards to keep them secure. 

The buildings of Trinity College I can not begin to de- 
scribe. They are of great extent and elegance, forming 



370 TRINITY COLLEGE. 

one of the chief architectural attractions of this fine old 
city. We did no more than get a glimpse of the interior 
arrangements, a large portion being, at present, occupied as 
a barrack for the soldiers assembled here to suppress the 
rebellious spirit of the people, and maintain "law and or- 
der ;" the like of which was witnessed, not many years ago, 
in one of our New England Universities, and for a similar 
purpose. 1 felt my hot blood so stirred at the sight of such 
a base prostitution of a literary and scientific estabHshment, 
that I took no interest in looking about it. We could go 
no where without meeting a guard of soldiers, but they 
seem so strangely out of place in this venerable seat of 
learning that I preferred to look at them in the castle, where 
they more properly belong, and leave the nobler means of 
education to be viewed in other and more peaceful times. 
Tyranny will resort to any means to sustain its ends, andj 
when its very existence is threatened, it often receives tri- 
bute and honor where least expected. In the name of 
" law and order" what damnable deeds have been commit- 
ted with impunity, against which no voice is permitted to 
raise a complaint but at a fearful peril ! Even the stars 
and stripes have floated over such iniquity, and the eagle 
of boasted liberty spread her wings and oped her beak to 
crush the will of the majority expressed peaceably, distinct- 
ly, directly, and in the only way allowed it ; and learned 
men, and clergymen have lent the sanction of their names, 
the music of their voices, the persuasions of their pens, and 
the halls of learning entrusted to their keeping, to help 
crush, by military force, the majority when peaceably strug- 
gling for their rights, for the success of whose cause some 
of them had previously loaned their public prayers ! 

What makes such an act more disgraceful in our country 
is, that it is voluntary, while here the minions of royalty 
give command, and none dare refuse obedience. With us 
it is boasted that the will of the people is supreme ; that 
the practical working of republicanism is to secure indivi- 
dual liberty and right; that government derives its "just 



REVOLUTION BETTER THAN OPPRESSION. 371 

powers from the consent of the governed" and that " it is 
the right of the people to alter or abolish it." But " law 
and oi'der" has a charm which conservatism and aristocracy 
reverence, even in defiance of right, and humanity, and the 
plainest demands of common justice. Republicans, as well 
as despots, can terrify, and threaten, and control, by the 
awful horrors which would follow the invasion of the sacred 
precincts of "law and order ;" forgetting that governments 
are yet imperfect, and that the love of power sometimes 
precludes the possibility of obtaining redress for the wrongs 
under which the masses still suffer. It is certainly much 
the best, for reforms to be effected without revolution ; but 
revolution is better than oppression ; and there are cases 
where the multitude knock in vain at the door of justice, 
especially when in the keeping of the precious /et^ who are 
foolish enough to think themselves divinely appointed to 
rule their fellow-men. 

The necessity which compels a long injured people to 
stand up in defence of their natural rights, and battle for 
the elementary principles of civil liberty, is always to be 
deplored ; but when such cases do exist, we count it noble, 
heroic, glorious, for a whole community to arise in their 
strength, united and determined, in God's name, declaring 
the true, maintaining the right, and defending the good, 
against the usurpations of the individual or the coterie, who 
have abused their privilege and oppressed their subjects. 
Subjects ! What a term of reproach when applied to the 
lords of this lower world ! The ruler is the servant of the 
ruled. Jesus washed his disciples' feet ! It is shame to that 
coward heart which does not sympathize with the move- 
ment of the masses to redress their wrongs, throw off their 
fetters and repel the aggressions of the tyrant few, who 
have so long loi'ded it over God's heritage. Their souls are 
withered into the limits of the narrowest selfishness, or else 
they are so bedazzled with the pride and gloiy of earth, 
that they have forgotten that there is a Supreme Governor 



372 ABUSE OF LEARNING. 

before whom they are as nothing, and to whom they are 
under a fearful responsibility, which they can not escape ! 
But it has long been so, that the masses have been hewers 
of wood and drawers of water, for a self-created nobility, 
which has borne rule over them with an iron hand ; and it 
will, doubtless, long continue to do so; certainly, until the 
people come to know their rights and how to defend them. 
It is a sorry reflection that many who become enlightened 
do not retain their sympathies for those in whose society 
they once mingled on equal terms. But the world's allure- 
ments too often blind their eyes and steel their hearts, to the 
nobler sentiments of a living humanity, and they soon flatter 
themselves that it is their right, almost a duty, to guard the 
people from the assertion of their liberty and defence of 
their rights — to hold them yet awhile longer in a bondage 
the most servile and degrading. Even here the famous old 
Trinity is turned into a military barrack, for the comfort 
of soldiers sent here to help manacle still closer this turbu- 
lent and long oppressed people. Strange that this college, 
with its vast resources of men and learning, has not advo- 
cated a right spirit and sent out pure and healthful streams 
to allay the turbulence complained of, and remove the 
oppressions which cause all the mischief which so annoys 
the government Why it has not, becomes plain when we 
know that learning is made the handmaid of royalty, and 
confined mainly to the sons of the nobility and gentry. 
There is much aristocracy in learning. The sword, the 
purse, and the college form a trinity here. Selfishness may 
turn the highest attributes to a base account. The people 
must be taught — general knowledge must be scattered 
among them, and a feeling of equality and self-respect be 
possessed by all, before any thing like true liberty can exist. 
If half the means bestowed upon this old college, these mili- 
tary establishments, and these work-house unions, had 
been devoted to the education of the poeple, Ireland would 
this day be a rich, powerful, and happy nation, the right 
arm of the British throne, loyal in all her attachments 



CARMELITE CHURCH. 373 

to a good government. But abused, oppressed, and ig- 
norant, how can she be different from what she is ? 

Near our abiding-place is a friary, and Carmelite church. 
Seeing the door of the latter open we went in. It is a plain 
building, appropriately fitted up with pictures and statues, 
for that form of worship. Two or three were kneeling in- 
side, muttering their prayers, and counting their beads. By 
the door a notice was posted up, requiring, by authority, 
certain observances in the forms of the church. On leav- 
ing, we were met in the vestibule by the priest. Father 
Tobin, a portly, well-formed, full-fed Irishman, with a long 
frock-coat and broad-brimmed hat. He spoke to us, and we 
soon entered into a free conversation, upon the condition 
of his country and ours. During the conversation several 
poor wretches approached us to beg. He ordered them off 
as unfeelingly as if they had been brutes. Some little girls 
came along whom he drove away with words of authority. 
A drunken man staggered by, to whom he gave some harsh 
words, calling him by name. Two women passed of lewd 
demeanor. To them he spoke rebuking words, the force 
of which they seemed to feel. All these, except the last, did 
reverence to the father, as they passed, bowing or courtesy- 
ing; the drunken man did not succeed very -well with his bow, 
his head apparently being too heavy for his general strength. 
The priest kept on his conversation, barely suspending a 
sentence to give his admonitions, and proceeding as if no- 
thing had occurred. The last two, however, were rather 
loo much for his equanimity, and he asked us to step into 
a small room on the right of the arched entrance. 

Here we had a long conversation, or rather argument, 
(or it assumed that form, mainly on the propriety of educat- 
ing the common people. He contended that it was dan- 
gerous to give them knowledge, unless under the restraining 
influence of the true church. I assured him that I thought his 
people had been under such restraining influence quite too 
long, that it was time to give a larger liberty for the mind 

32 



374 DISCUSSION WITH a priest. 

to expand and develop its powers, and that no permanent 
good could be expected for this country till such a revolu- 
tion in the moral sentiment had been effected. This 
aroused him to a boisterous harangue on the wickedness of 
introducing the Bible into public schools, or teaching chil- 
dren to read it as a part of their education. My friend, 
who had been a trustee in our public schools at home, took 
up this branch of the argument, contending for the proprie- 
ty and importance of such a course. 

The good father became exceedingly warm in the de- 
bate, and took much larger, and more frequent pinches of 
snuff* than before, but politely offering to his opponent his 
box, every time. The debate was, to me, more amusing 
than instructive, though I learned something of the haughty 
and dictatorial manner which this class of men exhibit, oc- 
casioned by the method of their training, and their habits 
of life. He seemed to be greatly disturbed that my friend 
dared to question his positions, or refused to assent to his 
conclusions. He exacted unreserved assent to the oracular 
correctness of his assertions, where there was manifestly an 
honest difference of opinion. This my friend would not 
yield, informing him that the freedom of our country had 
allowed him, as well as every other, to think for himself, 
and that he had formed his opinions from observation and 
study ; and, till convinced of their incorrectness, no as- 
sumption of authority could make him renounce or deny 
them. The father was much nettled at this sturdy inde- 
pendence, and waxed warm in the wordy fight. I tried 
many times to change the topic, before I could succeed, by 
inquiring about the prospect of things in reference to the 
present movements. Upon these he refused an opinion, 
asserting that it was the business of the Church to " sub- 
mit to the powers that be ;" but hinting that he thought 
the Protestant leaders had usurped too much influence in 
the present commotions, and that, therefore, the Catholics 
would probably abandon them." With an expression of ' 
thanks on our part for his attentions, and an invitation to 



THE CASTLE. 375 

call on us, in our country, and taste the sweets of a larger 
liberty, we parted, with his benediction and prayers for a 
prosperous journey and a safe return. 

Proceeding on our way, we took a look at several church- 
es of different orders. I use the word church, not as here, 
to specify those used by the Established Church, but includ- 
ing all houses of Christian worship. Some of them are 
very stately and elegant, and make a handsome show, and 
contrast badly with the miserable habitations about them. 
I need not specify their names. All these cathedrals, 
churches, chapels, and meeting-houses present a full share 
of architectural taste, and a liberal outlay of money for the 
support of religion. 

Returning, we passed the Corn Exchange, which we had 
looked into in the morning. It is a spacious building, of 
granite, designed for merchants, and arranged for the con- 
venient exhibition of samples of grain. It makes a hand- 
some appearance, inside and out. We noticed several 
other public buildings, the character of which we did not 
learn. 

Just at nightfiill, we took a turn through the Castle, the 
winter residence of the Lord Lieutenant, a sort of militarv 
palace, on a grand scale. It is situated in the midst of the 
city, on high ground, and presents a gruff and formidable 
appearance. This blending of civil and military power I 
never much admired, but, as a student of things, must sub- 
mit to much that I can not approve ; and I plucked up 
courage to take a look through the accessible parts of this 
vice-regal establishment. We entered by the east gate — 
which is guarded by a statue of Justice, and two living 
sentinels in the employ of /w-justice — into a quadrangular 
court, near three hundred feet long, and one hundred and 
fifty wide. This area is fronted by corresponding build- 
ings, which present three rears, of course, to the streets. 
These fronts exhibit a rich display of architectural taste, 
and the interiors are said to excel in elegance. On one 
side are the apartments of the Lord Lieutenant, the rest 



376 A YOUNG SOLDIER. 

are occupied by the officers and servants of the household. 
The front of the chapel of the castle is ornamented with 
heads of all the sovereigns of England. 

While gazing about, a young soldier came up to us, and 
commenced a conversation. Finding we were from Ame- 
rica, he expressed himself very freely. He had not been 
long in the service, and was not well pleased with it, but 
necessity had compelled him to adopt this course to obtain 
a living. He asked us what we had heard of Mitchell's 
trial, and what was the prospect of acquittal. We told 
him we had heard nothing in particular, only there was 
much excitement in the streets. He said he hoped he 
would get clear, for he believed him an honest man, and 
a true lover of his country. We proceeded gradually, and 
finally asked him what he should do if there should be a 
rising of the people. He said, after some hesitation, he sup- 
posed he must fight. I did not press the inquiry further, 
for I saw, by his appearance, what his answers would be ; 
that his heart was for his country, which he loved, and, 
though compelled to it, he would reluctantly contend with 
his countrymen, and, therefore, the expression of an ear- 
nest hope that there would be no serious disturbance. He 
said the whole garrison was kept constantly in readiness 
for any emergency ; that every part of the castle was 
crowded with soldiers, and hundreds were quartered in 
private dwellings. Observing some one who appeared to 
be listening to our conversation, he bowed and left us. 

We departed by the gate opposite to the one we entered, 
and passed along under the high wall of the south front, 
where we met several soldiers, and saw a curious 
kind of movable breastwork, designed to barricade the 
streets. The houses in this neighborhood are filled with 
soldiers, up to the windows of the fourth and fifth stories ; 
and many, not very respectable looking women are loiter- 
ing about them. Oh, the wickedness of armies ! how man- 
ifold are their curses ! how blighting their influence upon 
virtuous principle, and social happiness I We were glad to 



CHURCH OF ST. AUDOEN. 377 

escape from tlie atmosphere of pollution, ashamed of our- 
selves for having seen the proof of such terrible degrada- 
tion. 

Just at dark, we wandered into the large, unfinished 
church of Saint Audoen — a saint of whom I had never heard 
before ; but, as every church must be called after a patron 
saint, whether Catholic or Episcopal, the old calendar has 
been exhausted. Some, for fear they shall not get the right 
saint to preside over them, call their churches " All 
Saints." The church was crowded full, to hear a dis- 
course from an Italian priest, who spoke the English indif- 
ferently. The staging was still standing. The room was 
very dimly lighted. Men and women were huddled to- 
gether, some standing; some kneeling ; some praying; some 
talking ; some laughing ; some coming in ; some going 
out — all in most glorious confusion. There was nothing 
of the order, attention, and propriety we are accustomed 
to see in places of worship. The great proportion were, 
in appearance, people just come from their work, without 
washing their faces, or changing their apparel. The wo- 
men, generally, were without hats, with white, ruffled, cam- 
bric caps on their heads. Men had on clogs, or heavy 
shoes, and corduroy breeches. Nearer the altar, there was a 
class of people better dressed, and giving better attention 
to the services. 

On leaving the church we received a copious shower of 
the holy water which was spattered promiscuously over the 
multitude, enough, my friend thought, to last us some time. 
In addition to the regularly appointed beggars who were 
busy with their boxes collecting pennies, and scolding and 
fretting about the meanness of the collection, there was a 
host of volunteers in the shape of decrepid men, haggard 
old women, and ragged children, who followed us into the 
street with their blessings and their prayers, holding out 
their hands for us to give. 

All about the street were gathered crowds of men and 
women, many of whom we overheard discussing the sub- 

32* 



378 POPULAR AGITATION. 

ject of Mitchel's trial. In one company we heard a man 
and a woman sing a very pathetic song ; in an other, one was 
singing a comic song, in which the boys and girls seemed to 
take great delight All these were closely watched by the 
policemen, who were listening to all the discussions where 
half a dozen were together. Every now and then a 
mounted policeman went dashing through the crowd, and 
here and there were seen platoons of soldiers patrolling the 
streets, apparently to overawe the people. Wherever a 
large crowd was gathered, or any thing like excited conver- 
sation, two or three policemen would come up and order 
them to disperse, which was generally obeyed, but not al- 
ways with the best grace imaginable. Some would grate 
their teeth and mutter vengeance ; others would turn upon 
them a repartee, and excite a laugh against them ; but every 
where it was manifest that the bitterest hatred was stifled 
only by the dread of power. In short, the city presents the 
appearance of one just conquered and placed under military 
governors. The spirit of dissatisfaction will, every where, 
find means of expression, and many were the taunts and 
jeers cast upon the minions of power. It was a rich field 
for the display of Irish wit, and I laughed outright more 
than once at the quaint and pointed expressions of defiance 
and derision heaped upon the straight-coated policemen, 
by the burly fellows who managed to keep out of their 
clutches. 

But notwithstanding this occasional exhibition of a light 
and careless feeling, there was a deep and solemn anxiety 
every where to be seen depicted on every countenance. 
Every body seemed to be in trouble ; not less the friends 
than the foes of the government. The former felt that it 
was a critical moment, when the least movement might 
prove fatal to the peace of the city and the lives of thou- 
sands. The latter hoped against hope, that the trial of the 
distinguished advocate of their cause would terminate 
favorably, and they be permitted to hail his deliverance 
from thraldom, by a grand display of triumph over their 



A RESTLESS NIGHT. 379 

adversaries. Few of them meditated a formal rebellion 
against the government, in their unprepared state, for all 
know that such an attempt would be futile. But they re- 
member the words of their former leader, who said " Agi- 
tate, Agitate," and they hope, by agitations, to force Eng- 
land to remove some of the disabilities which have im- 
poverished their country and, they think, brought all their 
miseries upon them. 



CHAPTER XII. 

A Restless Night. — Domestic Affairs. — Trial of John Mitchel. — Gain Ad- 
mission. — The Court-room. — The Court. — The Bar. — The .Tury. — The 
Prisoner. — The Audience. — Mr. Holmes. — His Defence. — The Effect. — 
The Crowd. — The Excitement. — The Military. — Rashness of the Reform- 
ers. — Ireland Unfitted for a Republic. — Paying the Catholic Clergy .t— Irish 
Character. — A forcible Repeal impossible. — Origin and E.\ercise of Power. 

At a late hour last night, we retired to our room, great- 
ly " exercised" in body and mind. The sights we had seen 
affected one, and the bacon and green cabbage we had eaten, 
the other — the latter, though a rarity much praised here, 
was a little too much for my Jewish stomach. A little too 
much of the canine and graminiverous for a dyspeptic ! 
All night I suffered indescribable tortures. When I slept, I 
dreamed of rebellions, dungeon -walls, and indiscriminate 
slaughter ; of trials for heresies, with racks, gibbets, and all 
imaginable tortures ; the heaving and rolling of the sea, fol- 
lowed by the most intolerable sickness. Then up I would 
start, sick in reality, for my stomach was in open rebellion 
against the oppressions imposed upon it, and a terrible com- 
motion and oM^break followed, which no force, physical or 
nioral, could quiet, without the removal of the evils com- 
plained of This morning, I feel a consequent debility ; but 
a little fasting for the body, while there is so much to 
excite the mind, will, I trust, restore mv wonted health, and 



380 DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS, 

all go on in harmony. We have a long day before us ; so, 
while my friend has been taking his walk and breakfast, I 
have sketched up my notes, and have time to remark a 
word upon the domestic arrangement of the respectable 
boarding-house in which we are stopping. 

The houses in this city look old and dingy, dark and lone- 
some. They are generally built of bricks, much larger than 
ours, and of a yellowish brown color, resembling our fire 
bricks, or those of which houses are constructed in Mil- 
waukie. They are large and high, sometimes five and six 
stories. The windows have no blinds, and hence look naked. 
A portion of the houses are of stone, but those look less 
cheerful than the others. The inside is finished in a plain 
old fashioned style, with little respect to taste or convenience. 
The floors are not generally carpeted, and from age look 
old and dirty ; the fault is in the boards, which turn to a 
dark, dingy color, which can not be prevented. The rooms 
are papered. The paper is Imng against the sides, being 
pasted upon coarse canvas, fastened at the top and bottom, 
— thus came the name paper-/mno-ir?^s. The more modern, 
as with us, have the paper pasted to the wall. The ceiling 
is smoky and rough. The furniture corresponds with the 
style of the houses, generally old, heavy, and substantial. 
The beds are furnished with linen, clean, but not so white 
as we see at home. Straw palliasters, with heavy feather 
beds, which never saw a Yankee renovator. Most of them 
are furnished with high posts, and enclosed with well-worn 
chintz of the olden style. Every thing bears the marks of 
age and wear, and not that thorough respect to neatness 
with which we are familiar in hotels and boarding houses. 
I speak now not only of this house, which is above the mid- 
dling class, situated in a good street and well accredited for 
the manner in which it is kept, but also of those which we 
have seen in other places. 

Some idea can be formed of an Irish breakfast, from the 
following description given by my friend, who has just come 
up from the table. " There were some half dozen large loaves 



mitchel's trial. 381 

of bread, and as many small ones, placed on the table, with- 
out plates under them ; some half-dozen plates, each contain- 
ing four or five pieces of butter as large as a dollar ; each 
person cut a slice from the loaf, and helped himself to but- 
ter with his own knife, and was permitted to choose either a 
little piece of cold meat or two boiled eggs, with two cups 
of black tea, and a small allowance of milk, and sugar to the 
liking." Of the veracity of this description I have no 
doubt, for it comports with every breakfast we have had, 
except we have not often seen meat. It is not common to 
spread a cloth upon the table. 

We took a stroll through the old part of the city, amid 
scenes of filth and misery equal to any thing we have seen 
— through the grounds of one of the many large hospitals, 
to the station, to meet our friend who left us at Mount 
Shannon ; thence, through the north portion of the city, to 
the railway station, in that section, the basin of the Royal 
canal. Queen's Inns, and several other places. This por- 
tion of the city is more modern and handsome than that 
on the south of the LifFey. Several streets are wide 
and neat, and the houses large and elegant. We noticed, 
particularly, the churches, as being specimens of tasteful 
elegance. In fact, few cities can excel Dublin, in the 
beauty of its location, or the number and splendor of its 
public buildings. 

The object of to-day was, to attend the trial of Mr. 
Mitchel, arraigned for sedition. With much difficulty, we 
pressed through the crowd, to the court-house in Green- 
street. Directly in front, an area of several rods was kept 
clear by chains, and rows of policemen, stretched across 
the street, who brandished their batons over the heads of 
the crowd in a very careless manner. Fifteen or twenty 
mounted policemen, with swords by their sides, occupied 
the open space. Once or twice we were ordered to leave, 
as we stood looking on. Seeing some others cross to the 
court-house, we followed, no one opposing us. Those who 
would succeed, must always persevere. Several police- 



382 THE COURT-ROOM. 

men were guarding the door. We asked admission, but 
were refused. We whispered in the ear of one that we 
were Americans, hoping to make up in national, what we 
lacked in personal ability. We were referred to the she- 
riff, to whom we sent a note, saying that three American 
travelers, happening in the city, desired to attend the 
trial then going on. In a few moments a permit was re- 
turned, by which we gained admission to the court-room, 
being handed from one officer to another, till we were seat- 
ed in the gallery. 

The court-room was crowded, in every part, with men 
and women, army and naval officers, with a large sprink- 
ling of bailiffs and policemen placed among the audience, 
so as to overhear the least expression of sympathy for the 
prisoner, and suppress the first movement in his favor. 
The passage-ways and doors were fortified with a strong 
guard, and the whole scsne presented the appearance of a 
court-martial. 

In the bench, elevated a few steps above the lower floor, 
were seated two men, dressed in what seemed to me a ra- 
ther fantastic style. The one on the right was Baron Le- 
froy, the chief judge. He wore a gray wig, and a red cas- 
sock, trimmed with ermine, looking some like an old monk; 
except his features were less complacent, bearing the marks 
of a stern and revengeful temper, and a cold, unfeeling 
heart, every way indicative of the qualities necessary to 
execute the law of tyrants for political offences. The 
other was Judge Moore, whose smoother countenance im- 
pressed me more favorably, as if some drops of the milk 
of human kindness still flowed in his veins. Immediately 
before the bench, were arrayed the counsellors of the 
crown, and those for the prisoner. They were, dressed in 
long, black, flowing cassocks, with white bands at the neck, 
like certain priests, with long, curly wigs, thoroughly pow- 
dered. I noticed some young barristers in the crowd of 
lawvers about the bar, all dressed in the same way, whose 
appearance was laughably ridiculous. They forcibly re- 



Mil. JOHN MITCH KL. 383 

minded me, as they moved about, of young peacocks, 
learning to spread tlieir tail-feathers for the admiration of 
themselves — perhaps of others. Our republican eyes are 
unused to such designations of place and rank. A portion 
of the pulpit retains the aristocratic practice, but the bar 
does not. In some of our upper courts, there is left a little 
mock imitation, by the judges wearing the black cassock, 
but omitting the ermine and the wig. Except in the mar- 
tial, penitentiary, and murders on the scaffold, little respect 
is paid to the outward emblems of authority or rank. 

The jury of twelve men, respectable in appearance, were 
sitting in the box. Opposite to them were several ladies, 
whose appearance indicated that they were " of rank," 
who seemed to take a very lively interest in the proceed- 
ings. In the dock, was the principal object of attention — ■ 
Mr. John Mitchel. He was sitting calmly, with his arms 
folded on his breast, as if trying to look cheerful and indif- 
ferent. My first glance at him showed that this was un- 
real ; that, deeper in his soul, there was a bitter agony, 
which could not be suppressed — a feeling which involunta- 
rily rebelled against the mockery of law, when the sacred 
precincts of justice and liberty are invaded. He is a man 
under middle age, perhaps thirty-five, of medium stature, 
spare in flesh, of a nervous temperament, with an intel- 
lectual forehead, and a general phrenological development 
indicative of an excellent moral character — not common 
with "felons." His countenance was rather })ale, and, I 
should judge, his health not generally good. Near him — 
outside the dock, a lady was pointed out as his wife, whose 
genteel and modest appearance, and deep interest in what 
was said and done, showed her to be possessed of the deep- 
est sensibilities, and keenly alive to the fate of her husband. 
Mr. Meagher was also present, and constant in his atten- 
tions to Mr. Mitchel. 

In the grand-jury box, was a retinue ol" reporters for the 
press, and others, who seemed to take a deep interest in the 
progress of the trial. It was easy to see that a deep anxi- 



384' NO PROSPECT OP ACQUITTAL. 

ety pervaded the whole assembly ; for, though every thing 
was kept quiet, the least remark of favor or disfavor in the 
progress of the trial, operated, like an electric shock, on all 
at once. 

The preliminary steps had been taken yesterday, nearly 
the whole day having been consumed in empanneling a jury 
on which the government could rely for a conviction. A 
good deal of chicanery, it was alleged, had been used in 
packing a jury to carry out the will of gov^ernment. Every 
Catholic and friend of repeal had been studiously rejected 
from the pannel, and those only admitted who were known 
to be opposed to the prisoner. All was now ready for the 
form of a trial, the result of which was clearly foreseen 
by all who understood the manceuvrings of the govern- 
ment officers. The friends of Mr. Mitchel, as well as his 
enemies, had made up their minds to his conviction ; but 
they still awaited, anxiously, the denouement of the iniqui- 
tous drama, to see how far cool injustice would go to sus- 
tain political tyranny and oppression, under the form of 
law, and in the name of order. All were anxious to hear the 
defence of Mr. Holmes, the leading counsel for the prisoner, 
who is called the "father of the Irish bar," and admitted, on 
all hands, to be the most learned and eloquent barrister in 
the realm, as well as a true and fearless patriot. All eyes 
were directed to him, and every body wished for the mo- 
ment to arrive when he should speak. The previous pro- 
ceedings seemed a needless and tedious delay. Law and 
evidence were of little concern, so long as justice and equi- 
ty were outraged by the judiciary, backed by military 
power. All had seen the assembling of immense hordes 
of troops, kept constantly under arms — fourteen thousand 
being at this moment stationed in different parts of the 
city, ready to be concentrated in twenty minutes, at a given 
signal, to crush any demonstration that should be made in 
favor of the prisoner. What chance was there for his 
acquittal ? The careful observer could see none. His 
conviction was pre-determined, and all the necessary 



THE INDICTMENT AND EVIDENCE. 385 

measures preconcerted for that purpose. But still all felt 
interested to hear what the ablest adv^ocate and purest pa- 
triot in Ireland would dare to say on such an occasion. 

The court was open when we entered, and ihe Queen's 
attorney was proceeding with a statement and explanation 
of the law relating to sedition ; which was all very plain 
and direct, having been concocted and passed a few months 
ago to meet the case of Irish rebels who could not be con- 
victed by any previous statute. The substance of the ac- 
cusation was, that the prisoner had been guilty of " felo- 
niously compassing to deprive the Queen of her style and 
royal name., and of the imperial crown ;" that, in a speech 
in Limerick, he had uttered seditious language, which was 
afterwards published in a paper called the "United Irish- 
man;" that he had, on other occasions, written and published 
in the same paper, similar language, especially in a " Letter 
to Irish Protestant Farmers." He next introduced testimony 
to sustain the indictment. Half-a-dozen policemen and 
one or two others swore to all that was wanted to fasten 
the charge upon him. After a few brief comments upon 
the evidence, in relation to the law, were addressed to the 
jury in a very mild and indifferent manner, as if he felt 
sure of his case, and would therefore spend no unnecessary 
breath, but could afford to appear generous and merciful to 
the accused ; he closed, with some general remarks in- 
tended to correct a report, already circulated, that unfair 
and illegal steps had been taken to procure a jury that would 
certainly bring in a verdict of guilty. No particular in- 
terest was manifested during the progress of his speech, nor 
at the close. He handed in his papers and rested the case 
on the part of the crown. 

A little movement was noticed among the lawyers, and 
all attention was directed towards an old gentleman who 
rose up slowly as if oppressed with the weight of years, as 
well as a fearful responsibility for the fate of a fellow being. 
A slight murmur of applause ran through the assembly, 
which was immediately suppressed — before half-uttered — 



386 STKIKING THE JURY. 

by the sheriff and other officers who started to their feet. 
A profound silence ensued. I had no time to scan the per- 
son of Mr. Hohnes, further than to observe an old man — I 
should think of eighty years — somewhat bent by age, but 
still vigorous and bold, and too careless of life to be cowered 
by authority to wear the manacles of despotism. With 
the manner in which his first sentence was uttered, I be- 
came so impressed, that I scarcely thought of the man af- 
terwards. He stood before me as an image half-seen when 
the whole attention is so intensely absorbed in the contem- 
plation of an object beyond it, as that only the occasional 
movement of the intermediate attracts the least notice. I 
hardly heard the minor points of his speech. I took 
notes, but the spirit and truth of that speech touched a 
chord in my heart which thrilled my whole being, and when 
it was ended, I felt as if 1 had been in a trance. It was 
more than a dream ; for the eternal landmarks of liberty and 
despotism, of justice and oppression, of the rights of the 
many, and the claims of the few, were so distinctly defined 
that the impression is vividly retained. It was not the 
novelty of the truths asserted — for every American school- 
boy is familiar with them ; but the noble, fearless, and elo- 
quent manner in which they were advanced, that pleased 
and overwhelmed me. 

He commenced by an allusion to the important duty de- 
volving on him as counsel for the defendant, and his sense 
of inadequacy to discharge it. He declared the pleasure he 
felt in being selected to defend a man whom he believed to 
be honest, if not innocent, and whom the government might 
fear or hate but could not despise. He submitted to the 
statements of the attorney general, and the proofs adduced 
without a comment, but expressed his regrets at his con- 
cluding remarks, in which he spoke of certain instructions 
respecting the striking of juries. This brought the State's 
attorney to his feet, who asserted that he only spoke of in- 
structions which he gave to the solicitor for the crown, and 
which came not from the Lord Lieutenant. Baron Lefroy 



THE DEFENCE FOUXUEU ON' JUSTIFICATION. 387 

interpose;! some remarks with a rather patronizing air, and 
Mr. Holmes proceeded immediately to a point, asserting 
that there were some things which could not be mistaken. 
" The crown had called a jury which two honorable men, on 
their oaths, had declared to be impartial and fair between 
the government and his client, and yet the officers of the 
crown had struck from that 'fair and impartial jury' thirty- 
six men ! (A burst of feeling was here suppressed by the 
sheriff, who cried out ' Silence.') We challenged the panel, 
they succeeded on the oath of two men, who declared it to 
be a fair and impartial jury, and yet strike off thirty -six 
men, eighteen of whom are Roman Catholics !" At this re- 
petition, in which he brought his fist upon the bar, a spon- 
taneous burst of applause broke from every part of the 
house. Baron Lefroy, the sheriff^ and under officers shouted 
silence, and in a few moments, all was calm as the house of 
death. 

Mr. Holmes proceeded to his defence, and such an other 
masterly performance has rarely been produced, since his 
brother-in-law, the celebrated Robert Emmet, was tried and 
condemned for a similar offence, in that same room, into 
which, I am told, Mr. Holmes has refused to enter, till the 
present trials commenced. He commented somewhat at 
length on the terms of the Union, and showed the ridicu- 
lousness of the law which made it felony to "compass, imagine, 
invent, desire, or intend to deprive or depose the most gra- 
cious sovereign, the Queen, from the style, honor, and royal 
name of the imperial crown of the United Kingdom, by 
printing certain articles in a newspaper, which alone were 
relied on as evidence in the case." When he came more 
directly to the opinions of Mr. Mitchel, he said, "Many of 
them I myself adopt." An other burst of applause followed. 
The brow of the old Baron knit in anger. Lord Moore 
looked anxious, and all the Bar stared as in doubt of his 
sincerity. He proceeded to state the condition of Ireland 
as a justification of Mr. Mitchel, and to prove his position 
that the " course of England had been the cause of all 



388 ENGLAND THE CAUSE OF IRISH DISTURBANCE. 

the disturbance which existed." He said, "Ireland is an 
enslaved country, and I will prove it. A great mistake is 
entertained, in my opinion, by some people, who think no 
man is a slave unless he is in chains, or subject to the lash 
of a tyrant. The real slavery of a people consists in this, 
that they do not make their own laws, but that another na- 
tion, or individuals, make them for them. I assert, boldly 
and broadly" — 

With an angry frown, and quivering voice. Baron Le- 
froy interrupted him, by saying the Court could not per- 
mit him to use such objectionable language. 

Mr. Holmes stood calm, and heard the judge ; then bow- 
ing politely, in the true dignity of an old man, conscious 
of his right, he proceeded, b}^ saying he "did not wish to 
do what was not right, but he could not do justice to his 
client, without doing justice to Ireland." A tremendous 
burst of applause followed this remark, which the officers 
could not prevent. I expected an outbreak at once, but 
soon all was calm, when the Baron remarked that the officers 
had got authority to arrest any person who should be guilty 
of improper expressions of approbation, and a repetition 
of the offence should be punished at once by imprison- 
ment. 

Mr. Holmes deprecated the applause, and proceeded with 
his argument, uninterrupted, till he again came to the rela- 
tions of Ireland to England, when he said, " I openly and 
boldly assert, as a lawyer and as a man, that the act of 
Union is only binding on the people of Ireland, as a matter 
of expediency," when expressions of approbation came 
from all parts of the room. He proceeded with a power- 
ful comment upon expediency. " It is often expedient to 
submit, and every man ought to submit, except on strong 
grounds ; but, when these strong grounds are aftbrded — 
when the question is of right, I assert that an enslaved 
people has the right, if driven to such a course, by neces- 
sity, to seek, by recourse to arms, to obtain their liberties, 
even at the hazard of life I sav life — What is life ? 



THE RIGHT OF REVOLUTION. 389 

What is life worth to a man, without liberty — of what 
value is the privilege to live enslaved and degraded ? What 
man would" 

The old Baron waxed warm, and, in most arrogant and 
insulting words, called Mr. H. to order, stating that the 
court would not sit here and hear such sentiments uttered. 

Mr. Holmes proceeded as calmly as if nothing had trans- 
pired, to say that " the prisoner alone had not that right ; 
no individual of himself has that right — but \\\e people col- 
lectively have that right, or such majority of the people as 
could leave no doubt of its title." 

Baron Lefroy was more violent than ever. His manner 
was insulting to the last degree. Courts, thought 1, and 
even governments, are often amazingly sensitive on this ques- 
tion of abstract rights. Here is a fair sample of it. The 
Judiciary is eminently conservative, and one of the most 
difficult branches to model into accordance with the prin- 
ciples of true liberty. We once had, in our country, 
judges deeply imbued with the principles of the " perfect 
law of liberty ;" but, as the spirit of '76 becomes filtered 
through the veins of a growing aristocracy, the doctrine of 
hereditary rights and old forms of government, and consti- 
tutions outlived, is admitted in the decisions of rights 
to reform. The principle of our sacred " Declaration of 
Independence" has never been maintained in reference to 
the right of ?najo7'ities to " alter, amend, or abolish their 
forms of government !" 

Baron Lefroy seemed to be impressed with a full sense 
of the dangerous ground on which Mr. Holmes was tread- 
ing, and he roused all his energies to put a stop to the dis- 
cussion of a question which promised so much harm to his 
government. But Mr. H. felt that he stood on equal 
terms, back of all law but that of God, and above all au- 
thority but that of heaven, and he warmed up, as if in- 
spired. He raised himself more erect, glanced a piercing 
look of defiance at the old Baron, and proceeded, undis- 
turbed. A bolder and more eloquent speech rarely fell 



390 AN ELOaUENT APPEAL. 

from the lips of mortal man. It reminded me, and I speak 
it reverently, of the defence of Saint Paul before Agrip- 
pa; except, in that case, the heathen monarch paid more 
deference to the rights and argument of the prisoner than 
was manifested on this occasion. 

The concluding sentences thrilled every heart. Scarcely 
an eye was dry in that vast assembly. The counsel for the 
Queen were deeply moved, and even the rough features of 
the old Baron showed that all his feelings of humanity were 
not blunted, but that some sense of justice and kindness 
still lurked in the secret chambers of his soul, which his 
conflicts with the sterner forms of wrong and crime had 
not entirely obliterated. The " old man eloquent," to 
whom that epithet emphatically applies, roused the embers 
of his mighty genius, and all the glory of his past life seemed 
to center and radiate from that point, and, as he rose higher 
and higher in the pathos of his argument, the whole 
audience clung closer and rose with him. The flashes which 
darted from his lips were like the clear blaze of the rapid 
lightning when it plays about the heavens uncontroled, leap- 
ing from cloud to cloud, and filling the soul with awe and 
admiration the most profound. There is a divinity in words, 
when fitly spoken, which is irresistible I never felt the 
power of eloquence as I felt it then. 

" The actions of men are not to be judged of" by events ; by success, or by 
defeat. Had the liberties of Greece perished with Leonidas at Thermopylae, 
Spartan glory would have been the same. Had the days of Marathon, Sala- 
mis, and Plataea, been days of defeat, instead of victory to Greece, the orator 
might still have sworn by the sacred memory of the dead. He who dies in 
battle for liberty and his country, dies the death of a soldier and sleeps in a 
hero's grave. — Gentlemen of the Jury, I speak, not here for my client merely ; 
I speak for you and your children, and your children's children — I speak not 
here for myself — my lamp of life is flickering and must soon be extinguished ; 
but were I now standing on the brink of the grave, and uttering the last words 
of expiring nature, I would say ' May Ireland be happy ; may Ireland be 
free.' I call upon you as you value liberty — as you value justice — as you 
value public good — as you value peace — as you value and love the country of 
your birth and the land of your fathers — I call upon you by your verdict of 
acquittal, this day, to contribute your parts towards making Ireland happy and 
free." 



EFFECT OF THE SPEECH, 391 

A long deep-drawn breath, accompanied by a burst of ap- 
plause, followed the concluding remark. The whole audience 
rose from their stooping position, for the attention of all 
had been so intensely riveted to the speaker, that they had 
unconsciously leaned forward as if drawn by the attrac- 
tion of a powerful magnet ; and could it have been permit- 
ted, as in the days of Greece and Rome, they would have 
borne the glorious old Barrister and his client in triumph from 
the clutches of the law through all the streets of Dublin, 
and made the welkin ring with shouts of admiration and 
praise, which would have raised Erin from the sleep of cen- 
turies to deeds of greatness and glory, to freedom, honor 
and peace. But alas, the hammer of " law and order" soon 
crushed the awakened patriotism of a nation. Justice 
rent her scales, and the bird of Jove flapped her dark wings 
sullenly and departed, to a fairer clime ; while the broken 
clouds, which seemed to indicate the termination of the 
storm which had lowered so long over the Emerald Isle, 
gathered in deeper folds, and the thunder of despotic power 
rolled its heavy wheels over the last hope of Irish liberty. 

The old Baron looked up as if glad it was over ; the 
prisoner smiled as if a ray of hope gleamed dimly upon 
his heart, and the deep sentiment of gratitude struggled for 
utterance to the man who had done him and the cause of 
•his country, for which he was in bonds, such ample justice ; 
and every other, man and woman, wiped off the tear which 
still trembled in their eyes, and smoothed their features to 
a more complacent look, as if willing now to abide the re- 
sult, satisfied that every thing had been done that could be, 
and if evil must come, they would submit to it with patient 
fortitude. I have heard men speak who were called orators, 
but their productions are puerile compared with this. I 
have read of Greek and Roman eloquence, but here I have 
seen its traces as it swept along like a mighty rushing wind, 
while all within its influence bowed before its resistless force 
as if to do it homage. I shall never forget that speech, so 
long as memory clings to the best and mightiest efforts of 



392 DENSE CROWDS OF PEOPLE. 

mortal men, or injured justice claims an advocate of her 
cause. 

After silence had been restored, Mr. Hen, Q. C, rose to 
present the concluding argument for the government. He 
paid a high tribute to the masterly oration of the counsel for 
the defence, and proceeded to the delivery of an indifferent 
speech, during which we left. 

The crowd outside the court-house, up and down Green 
street, had become immense. Will they clear him ? Will 
they find him guilty ? Will they hang him ? Will the 
jury agree? were questions asked a thousand times, by 
men and women, as we worked our way through the crowd. 
Every body in the vast multitude were waiting with the 
most intense anxiety to hear the result, and discussing the 
probabilities in the most favorable light. Poor creatures, 
thought I, you are indulging a most fallacious hope, hugging 
a fantom or a viper, which will soon leave you the sadness 
of disappointment, or the fury of madness. 

Troops of policemen were busy every where, trying lo 
disperse the people. Joining hand in hand, they would 
sweep along the crowd for several rods, when, like the parted 
waters, a mightier mass would press upon the vacuum in 
their rear, and they would be compelled to surge back again, 
to maintain their ground. Next a troop of mounted police- 
men would dash into the muliitude and extricate the be- 
leaguered band. As yet there was no outbreak, no violence, 
but the more considerate were in momentary expectation 
there would be an emeute of the most serious character. 

As far as we could see, in all directions, the streets were 
full of people of all grades and ages, from well dressed ladies 
and gentlemen, to ragged, and half-starved children. We 
had not gone a dozen rods before a crowd pressed upon us, 
followed up by a dozen mounted policemen. We found 
safety in a shop. In a few minutes the multitude swept up 
in the opposite direction. Nobody showed any respect for 
the officers. Some laughed at them and ridiculed their ef- 
forts to control the people. Some taunted them as the 



INTENSE EXCITEMENT. 393 

minions of oppression, hired to abuse their countrymen. 
Others defied them to show their authority, mocking them 
as mean and contemptible. It was evident the poUcemen 
did not dare to do as they would in ordinary cases — that 
they feared the people. Where there were no policemen 
there was no trouble, no confusion. So true it is that the 
useless display of power awakens a feeling of disobedience, 
as the training of armies, begets the spirit of war, and the 
execution of criminals a thirst for blood, and recklessness 
of life. 

Suddenly there came a whisper, like a breeze in a sultry 
day, that the jury could not agree. A ray of joy gleamed 
from every countenance, as if new life had been awakened, 
and the hour of deliverance drew near. The women 
laughed, and told it to their babies, whom they hugged clo- 
ser to their breasts ; the little boys and girls were gay 
again ; and a glimmering of hope lighted the faces of the 
most fearful and despondent. Still, an awful anxiety was 
manifest in many, that the danger was not all past, and 
such seemed as restless as if their own fate was at stake. 
I confess I shared deeply in that feeling. All my sympa- 
thies had become enlisted in behalf of the prisoner and his 
cause, hopeless and rash as I deemed his efforts to have 
been, and impossible as I knew the work he had undertaken 
to accomplish for his country. But he had stood up in de- 
fence of principles which are eternally true, if not always 
practicable. He had advocated the doctrine of human 
rights. He had aimed at a higher form of government 
than that which brute force and usurpation had inflicted on 
his country — at a Republic, which should recognize the 
mutual rights and dependencies of all her citizens, and se- 
cure universal freedom and equal justice to God's children. 
He had been led to this course in compliance with no fixed 
formulary of human politics; by no Utopian dream of wild 
theorists ; by no hope of selfish or personal aggrandizement. 
He had followed the clear inductions of reason, the sound- 
est principles of Christian liberty and philanthropy, {ree 



394 MR. MITCHEL S PURPOSE. 

from the influence of feudal nobility and hereditary injus- 
tice. He had spurned the exclusive privileges of caste, 
and scorned the rewards of sycophancy. A Protestant by 
birth and education, he had become too liberal to be a par- 
tisan or a bigot, and desired to see his countrymen united 
upon the higher principles of Christian fraternity. A true- 
hearted Irishman, he had deplored the ignorance, misery, 
and oppression of his nation, and resented the wrongs and 
disgrace she had so long suffered, by her own dissensions 
and neglect, at the hands of tyrant lords, and moneyed aris- 
tocracies. As a Christian of true faith, ardent love, and a 
pure life, he had confidence in truth, hope in virtue, and a 
will to work for the accomplishment of what he deemed 
his duty. He relied upon the justice of his cause, the ci- 
vilization of the age, the honor of his nation, the humanity 
of his fellow-men, for the success of his efforts, and the re- 
ward of his labors. He trusted in God and his country- 
men, to whom he appealed, in whose name he spoke, and 
before whom he acted openly, fearlessly, zealously, if not 
wisely or successfully. His greatest, if not his only fault, 
was, like that of Emmet, Hampton, Sidney, and others, 
martyrs who perished in the cause of liberty, that he 
did not scrutinize, with sufficient caution, the signs of the 
times, nor weigh, as he should, the forfeit he was making. 
But it ever has been thus. Truth and Justice have had 
their martyrs in all ages, whom Tyranny has immolated 
upon the altar of human freedom ; but their roots have 
been wet with the life-blood of the faithful, and their 
branches have afterward overshadowed the children of 
those who have fallen to nourish their growth. The me- 
mories of such are always blessed, and their names become 
the watchwords of after genei'ations. 

That was a long and anxious hour. There was no noise, 
no commotion, no demonstration of hostility. Every 
thing was still and silent, like the lull which precedes the 
bursting of a thunder-storm. All the elements of life clus- 
tered close about the heart, and men grew pale with sus- 



CONTINUED ANXIETY. 395 

pense. Dense clouds spread their dark folds athwart the 
heavens, and the rays of the setting sun gleamed through 
the open spaces. Never did a Peruvian watch with keen- 
er anxiety the sullen stillness which precedes the destroying 
earthquake that may desolate his city, destroy property 
and home, and slay his wife and children, than those sturdy 
Irishmen awaited the announcement of the fate of the friend 
and advocate of their cause. Never did Arabian mother 
clasp her child more nervously, at the sight of the 
approaching simoom, than these Irish mothers did their 
infants. Language can not describe the intensity of feel- 
ing which marked every countenance. No hope was left 
but in the decision of law — British law — law framed to 
crush Irish liberty, and silence the complaints of the peo- 
ple ? And what would be the result of this trial, under 
such a law ? The physical force was too immense to be 
resisted, for Irishmen have no weapons for a combat. The 
sanctity of a fair trial by jury had been violated, and it 
only remained to see what virtue was left in men, under 
such untoward circumstances. 

The throng did not at all diminish, nor the deep anxiety 
wane a jot, till a sudden murmur, followed by a shriek of 
despair, burst from fifty thousand lips, and told the final re- 
sult. There was no rush ; no shout of vengeance ; no de- 
fiance of power ; but a deep, sullen expression of contempt, 
mingled with shame at the consciousness of inability to re- 
sist the rule of wrong, and the oppressions of injustice. 
Those near by us grated their teeth, as a deep shudder 
passed over them, clenched their fists, while a vacant stare 
told the hopelessnes of their hearts. It was a mere spasm, 
and it immediately passed away, leaving them weak and ir- 
resolute, and harmless as the caged lion. The multitude 
began to disperse — one by one they passed away, as if un- 
willing to hear or answer a word. 

Soon a crowd rushed down the street, and we supposed 
the fearful fray had begun. But, in a few moments, an 
"inside car" dashed by us, over the bridge, at a furious 



396 THE TERMINATION. 

rate, followed by three mounted policemen, and a crowd of 
men and boys, hooting and groaning at a doleful rate. On 
inquiry, we learned that the foreman of the jury, Mr. 
Whithy, was in it, and that all the jurors had been sent 
home in like manner, under a strong detachment of police, 
to protect them from the fury of an indignant populace. 

I could not, after all, forbear the thought that such is, too 
often, the display of Irish patriotism. Instead of a high 
and noble defence of their cause, they descend to a mere 
personal, guerilla warfare, and think to redress their 
wrongs by taking vengeance on some hated individual. 
But such is the fruit of ignorance, and, in their case, may 
be easily accounted for. Shut out from all intercourse 
with great and noble spirits which have lived and tri- 
umphed, tyrannized over by civil officers, domineering 
priests, and oppressive landlords, they have learned no 
other lesson than submission, and, when outraged nature 
does assert a claim, it takes the first and lowest form of 
vengeance. They can not rise to high and noble efforts, 
seize upon the primary cause of their wrongs, and remove 
them. 

Every where the military, as well as the police, was on 
the alert. Troops of soldiers, cavalry, artillery, and infantry, 
" armed and equipped," ready for a fight, were marching 
through the streets in all directions. The people stole away 
to their homes, to weep in private over this fresh proof of 
their degradation, and nurse their sullen vengeance. They 
felt, that they were a conquered people, a ruined nation. 
Heretofore they flattered themselves that they had some 
privileges, some chances of improvement, some ground of 
hope. Their leaders had told them so, and England had 
admitted it, in word. The fallacy of such notions was now 
apparent. The British lion had growled his decision, and 
commanded the people to submit in silence. I wonder no 
longer that the Irish hate the English. When did a man 
love the power that oppressed him ? Nature would prove 
recreant to her first dictates were such to be the case. And, 



IRELAND VALUABLE TO ENGLAND. 397 

SO long as a spark of patriotism burns in the Irish heart, 
there will live the spirit of hostility to English usurpation 
and tyranny. England must treat Ireland as a friend, as 
an equal, as a memher of the Union, before Irishmen will 
be satisfied with the government. It is common to hear 
Englishmen speak with contempt of Ireland, asserting that 
they should be a great deal better without it. Why, then, 
in the name of sincerity, does not England let Ireland go ? 
Why not release the unholy bonds of the Union, and rid 
themselves of such a nuisance ? Why this tenacious grasp 
upon a nation so worthless ? Oh, forsooth, they say, 
" France, or the United States, will at once form an alliance 
with Ireland !"' Such remarks remind me of certain men 
in our country who say, slavery is a curse, but get mad and 
rave if any body talks about removing it. 

Ireland is of immense value to England. It furnishes 
her armies and navy with men, her markets with provisions, 
her lords and gentry with the easy means of subsistence ; 
and, I might add, her councils w^ith some of her most dis- 
tinguished men, yea, and her halls of literature and science 
with the brightest ornaments of the age. England can not 
afford to lose Ireland. Let her then be treated with respect, 
as a friend, and an equal. Let her no longer be oppressed 
and trodden under foot. Let not her sons and daughters be 
starved and abused to that degree which drives them to 
desperation, and compels them to abjure their country, and 
fly to foreign lands. England boasts of her magnanimity. 
Let her show the proof of it to this wretched people, and 
these armies may be disbanded, or sent to rob the Sikhs of 
their territory, or whip the Chinese to buy her opium. 

I have been thinking, too, of the folly and rashness of 
Mitchel and his compeers. There is not the least chance 
of accomplishing any thing by the measures they propose. 
Ireland is not prepared for resistance. She has no arms, 
no ships, and, what is more, no spirit of unity. She lacks 
the sinews of war — she has neither money nor credit. 
How can such a people cope with the mistress of the seas ? 

34 



398 IRISH SOLDIERS WILL NOT REVOLT. 

Ten thousand well appointed troops could conquer Ireland 
in a month. Unless the priests would lead the people, none 
would fight ; and their vocation is better understood than 
in the days of Peter the Hermit. A single sprinkling of 
holy- water on any army w'hich could be collected here, 
and the word of a priest, would scatter it to the four winds. 
England has cunningly studied their influence and appealed 
to tiieir cupidity by promising to grant them a support 
from the national treasury. 

An idle hope has been whispered that the soldiery, as in 
France, will fraternize with the people, as soon as a colli- 
sion takes place, and an opportunity for revolt is given 
them. There is not the least ground for such expectation. 
England understands the matter too well. The soldiers and 
policemen are too well fed, and clothed, and paid, to strike the 
hand that feeds them. They are like Dr. Madden's clergy 
which can be " managed like cannon, whose mouths are 
pointed just as they please who fill their bellies." I have 
talked with several, who feel very keenly the wrongs and 
disgrace inflicted upon their country, but I never heard 
one of them hint at a revolt. They curse the civil, but 
bless the military power. They swear vengeance against 
the magistrate who fines or imprisons a repealer, distrains 
or evicts a tenant, and would join in a mob, to take ven- 
geance for such acts ; but, at the beat of the drum, they 
would fly to their quarters, arm themselves, and shoot 
down the very men with whom they had taken part ten 
minutes before. Such is the anomalous character of this 
people. They are like hawks employed in falconry, trained 
to devour their own species. 

Of one thing I am quite certain : that all attempts at a 
forcible repeal of the Union will prove abortive, till Britain 
shall have reached the culminating point ; her distant colo- 
nies shall revolt, and her returning armies, like those of 
Rome, proclaim a revolution, and maintain it. Ireland's 
hope is in the gradual relaxation of the partial laws of 
feudalism which have so long scourged her. England will 



INCAPACITY FOR A REPUBLIC. 399 

do this as well, as certainly and as soon as Ireland, if set 
free, would do it for herself, and, in my opinion, much soon- 
er. Ireland suffers most from her own nobility. " A no- 
bility sanctioned by British laws," you say. Very true ; 
but is it certain that a revolution, in the present social con- 
dition, would remove all the claims and influence of aris- 
tocratic privilege in Church and State? Who ever 
heard of a nation so rent by factions, so hostile in their lo- 
cal and religious prejudices, so clannish in all their feelings 
and associations, rising to republican equality ? France is 
trying it. She tried it once before. It is hoped that first 
lesson is not lost upon her people. But the French are not 
Irish, by a long way. They are more versatile, more 
tractable, less clannish, and not half so servile, because 
not so long and sadly depressed. Portions of Ireland 
may be ready for a free governmd^t. Many a noble heart 
there is, which beats high and hard for liberty. Of such I 
have not been speaking. Of the masses I say, they are not 
qualified for freedom. They could not solve the anarchy 
which would follow revolution into the elements of repub- 
lican order and good government. And who of their own 
countrymen would they follow ? Besides, I have little faith 
in the stability of republics made for the people, and given 
to them. They must make them for themselves. Repub- 
licans alone can found a republic. 

But it should be remembered that these stirs and risings 
are the preparations for liberty. Furious storms purify the 
air. The child gains strength by exercise. It may fall 
and hurt itself a hundred times. It grows wise and strong 
by its efforts. These are the lessons of humanity, de- 
signed for the rulers and the ruled. He must be a dull 
scholar who will not profit by them. Who does not know 
that along with enlightenment goes liberty ? Mind is su- 
perior to matter, and the will guides the action. In poli- 
tics as in religion, so long as kings can keep the }»eople ig- 
norant, they can exercise despotic power. Let them once 
be informed, and such power is at an end Ignorance is 



400 SOME PRAISE FOR ENGLAND. 

anarchy ; knowledge is freedom. The intermediate is the 
empire of tyrants ; the field where oppressors do their 
work. Ignorance will have no government. Wisdom and 
goodness treats all with equal justice. 

The duty is plain : let the people be instructed — let them 
grow wise by self-culture, and, like one of old, they will 
soon " know more than all their teachers." Until they are 
so, let governments be indulgent, and throw no hindrance 
in the way of knowledge to stay the progress of humanity 
towards its glorious destiny, its complete enfranchisement 
in the light and liberty of the sons of God. Let not a 
blind selfishness, a vain ambition, deceive those who, for 
the time, are entrusted with power, either in state or 
church, to keep them in ignorance, to sustain a dynasty ; 
for who would be a king of fools, or priest of bigots ? 

England has made some long strides in the work of re- 
form and progress. She is marching on towards liberty. 
She is solving difficult problems in the science of govern- 
ment. Every year carries her forward. Though occa- 
sionally there may seem to be a retrograde movement, it is 
only apparent. The earth, in its orbit, seems to roll back 
by its diurnal revolutions Humanity will progress. The 
world must be free. In theory, we are in advance of Eng- 
land. In practice, carrying out the details of government, 
she is not far in the rear — occasionally she darts ahead, and 
leads the way. Her hostility to Ireland, and support of 
Irish lords and prelates, is a drawback on her greatness. 
But these commotions ended, a new line of policy will be 
adopted towards this ill-fated country : — bankrupt estates 
will be sold ; absentee landlords sent home ; the burdens 
will be lessened ; religious equality granted, and a general 
system of paternal treatment adopted, which can not fail to 
inspire confidence, encourage industry, and promote order, 
contentment, and prosperity. Szich a revolution would do 
infinitely more, in five years, than all the commotions, and 
wars, and rebellions of eight centuries — more than all the 
repeal and embry(J revolutions of Orange-men, Ribbon- 



ANOTHER SLEEPLESS NIGHT. 401 

men, Molly-Maguires, or United Irishmen have ever 
dreamed of. It can not be that England will long remain 
deaf to such plain demands of justice, humanity, and reli- 
gion. She can not be so blind to her own interests. Once 
let such a course be adopted, and all cause of commotion 
will cease, intimidations will no longer be complained of, 
and Ireland will become the strong arm of the British Em- 
pire. All will be satisfied with it. Catholics, Protest- 
ants, Dissenters, Repealers, Orange-men, Ribbon-men — all, 
with one united voice, will praise the justice, honor the 
nobleness, and cheerfully obey the laws of a good govern- 
ment, for the Irish are not an ungrateful people. There 
will be no chance for agitation, for, "where no fuel is, 
the fire goeth out." Englishmen say "the Irish will be sa- 
tisfied with nothing." Give them something, and see. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

JOURNEY TO THE NORTH. 

Phoenix Park. — Cars. — Scenery. — Drogheda. — Carrickmacross. — A Fair. — 

Monoghan. A Conversation. Bally gawley. Fintona. — Sunday. 

Omagh. — Strabane. — Londonderry. — The Foyle. — Giant's Causeway. — 
Farewell. 

May 211. — An other horrid night. The warring ele- 
ments of my humanity have been so agitated I could not 
sleep. What is more intolerable than a night of sleepless, 
feverish agitation, when the memories of the past, and the 
plans of the future are all jumbled together in wild confu- 
sion; when one drowses and dreams, not knowing whether 
he is in the body or out of it, whether he is rational or a 
maniac, alive and a man, or dead and a demon. A blessed 
thing is sleep, to him who has it, but a real tantalus to one 
afflicted with coma vigil. The wig and cassock of the 
old Baron, and the scowl upon his wrinkled face ; the bland 

34* 



402 PHCENIX PARK. 

smile and dignified manner of the venerable Barrister ; the 
tones of his silvery voice ; the sublime eloquence of his 
rounded periods ; the shout, and the brandishing batons ; 
the ghost of poor Mitchel, so wan and pale, gazing wistfully 
upon wife, and children, and the desolations of Erin ; the 
clank of chains ; the creaking bolts ; the tramp of senti- 
nels ! Oh, horror, what a night ! 

It is morning — clear, beautiful, and quiet. Here and 
there a market-woman, with barrow, basket, or pail, wends 
her way, with a few vegetables, to the market. We follow 
them. It is Saturday, and the market is very full of mut- 
ton, veal, butter, cabbage, and other varieties. Food is 
cheaper here than at home, except what is imported. 
Protection, for revenue, robs the common people of all 
luxuries. 

We took a jaunting-car, and rode through the Phoenix 
Park. Platoons of soldiers, with haggard faces and dewy 
caps, were still patroling the streets ; multitudes were pa- 
raded in the Park, about the mansion of the Lord Lieute- 
nant. We rode on, no one disturbing us, through the vast 
and beautiful grounds, by winding avenues, shady lanes, 
dense groves, silvery ponds, and flowery paths. A charm- 
ing spot ! Herds of deer were feeding quietly on the 
grassy lawns, disturbed only by the evolutions of the sol- 
diers. What a contrast with the condition of the masses 
in this country ! The vice-regal mansion is a plain, com- 
fortable building, not much superior to some we see along 
the Hudson. His Excellency was not astir, and we cared 
not to disturb his troubled slumbers with any of our repub- 
lican ideas ! We bowed to the sentinels guarding him, 
and passed on, querying whether it is better to be guarded 
in a palace, from the insults of an outraged people, or in a 
prison, from an oppressive government I had a mind to 
tell the soldiers and cavalry to " keep off the grass," as we 
are told in our parks, for it would not be worth a cent for 
the sheep and goats upon which this poor people are so de- 
pendent. Fudge on this pomp and parade of nobility ! 



LEAVE DUBLIN. 403 

What an abuse of God's blessings ! Our President has no 
soldiers to guard his life. What a mighty fuss about the 
words of a small, middle-aged man, the son of a dissenting 
clergyman, very respectable in every thing but his lan- 
guage ! Who will say " words are trifles ?" Ha, ha, ha ! 
this is a great world ! and England is a great government ! 
Queen Victoria is a great woman, to be robbed of her " royal 
name" by such a man — ani Lord Clarendon is a great 
man, and Baron Lefroy is a great judge, and if they do 
not look out, they wnll make a great man of John Mitchell 
But I have done with thee, Dublin, thou city of ancient 
splendor and modern shame, of magnificent edifices and a 
puny people. I leave thee with no regret. I would not 
stay and hear sentence pronounced upon that honest man, 
who is guilty of no crime but telling the truth, from such 
lips as that old Baron's. Sweet words can never pass such 
a threshold. Humane thoughts never dwell beneath such 
a frown. Heaven spare thee yet a little, and raise thy 
250,000 souls, to taste the sweets of love, intelligence, and 
liberty. 

At seven o'clock, we took cars for Drogheda, on our 
route to the North. The station-house, though spacious 
solid, and convenient, has nothing of the neatness and 
splendor of that connected with the great Southwestern 
Railway. The cars come into the second story, the track 
being on a level with the roofs of the houses, thus passing 
over the streets, and avoiding all danger by contacts with 
carriages and foot-men. With a more democratic spirit 
than we see, in such cases, in our country, corporations are 
not allowed to impinge the rights and safety of the people, 
but required to build their roads out of the way. In no cases 
are they permitted to enter the dense portions of popu- 
lous cities. 

We took our seats in the second class, which is here by 
far the most popular and fashionable. The first class is 
for the "nobility and gentry." In the train there are three 



404 ARRANGEMENT OF CARS. 

classes. In the first there were but five persons ; in the 
second seventy or eighty ; in the third fifteen or twenty. 
The third class answers to our second. The prices differ 
about one-third. By law, a train has to be run daily for a 
penny a mile. The prices in the other classes is optional 
with the companies. The cars are small, and divided into 
three apartments, with two rows of seats running across, 
each row facing the other, and, of course, one-half riding 
backwards. Each class is on the same plan, the only dif- 
ference is, the first class has three windows on a side, with 
cushioned seats and stuflTed backs ; the second has the 
same except the stuffed backs; the third is minus the 
cushions, and two windows on a side. The second class 
cars have often been used for the first, but, like other dis- 
tinctions, for want of patronage, reduced in rank In some 
cases the middle portion is for the first class, and that on 
either end, for the second. A thin wall divides the ranks 
of society ! It is but a step from plebeianism to aristocra- 
cy, from virtuous intelligence to the caste of nobility, from 
the sublime to the ridiculous — and that is — downivard. An 
inch board divides a lord from an honest christian ! The 
evil is, they sit back to back. Could they but come face to 
face, these false distinctions would soon be looked out of 
countenance. 

The egress from the city, by this road, is remarkably beau- 
tiful and interesting. Being above the interference of any 
obstruction to the vision, a fine view is obtained of the 
semi-circular bay, with its three mile pier, terminated by a 
light-house, of the unique hill of Killiney, the charming 
villas, groves, and fields which border the south shore, as- 
cending back to the distant hills. Before us the rich and 
highly cultivated grounds of Clontarf spread off" to the 
bold headland of Howth, and are adorned with old baronial 
castles, and churches, and abbeys in ruins, modern villas, 
and straggling hamlets. 

Who that knows aught of Irish history, has not heard of 
Clontarf Brian Boroihme, and his victory over Sitric, king 



ALONG THE SEA-COAST. 405 

of the Ostmen. Here is the spot where that famous battle 
was fought on "Good Friday," 1014. Time, as if ashamed 
of its deeds, has left no traces of that fearful conflict, in 
which more than eleven thousand human beings, including 
the great Conquerer and his son Murchad, were sacrificed to 
the god of war. In those days it was heroic to die on the 
battle-field ; and, by the rule of the world's estimate, few 
men more noble than Brian have died more gloriously. 
He had subdued the hostility of the different provinces, uni- 
ted all the clans of his country under his imperial sceptre, 
twice beaten the Danes, and now, in the moment of victory, 
receives his death- wound ; and his son, the heir to his 
crown, falls by his side ! Yet Irish gratitude has reared no 
cenotaph, but in history and the nation's hearts, to mark 
this spot, or commemorate the event. Great actions need 
no monument. 

We felt happy in being freed from the tumult and excite- 
ment of the city ; glad to look upon the open world and 
breathe the free air of heaven. The sea, near which we 
passed, lay calm and tranquil, and, from its mirror surface, 
reflected the bright rays of the morning sun. The rugged 
headlands and rocky islets, which rise boldly from the sea 
to the height of several hundred feet, with ancient round 
towers, light-houses, and modern Martello towers, crowning 
their summits, and the ruins of castles, churches, and ab- 
beys strown over them ; the soft silvery bays and little in- 
lets, over which we swept on our way, were far more at- 
tractive than the miserable fishing villages, dirty hovels, 
thatched cabins, ragged, squalid population, and occasional 
aristocratic mansions, which we passed on the route. Mala- 
hide, Lusk, Rush, Skerries, Balbriggan, are the only places 
of mention before reaching Drogheda, and only the last 
of these show many signs of life and comfort. 

Drogheda is a. large, close-built town, bearing the marks 
of age and business. It is situated on the estuary of the 
Boyne, which is navigable to the bridge. A considerable 
number of small vessels are lying in port' We noticed 



406 DKOGHEDA. 

some very respectable buildings, the jail, work -house, and bar- 
racks, churches of different denominations, friaries, and nun- 
neries. We observed one convent, which is very handsomely 
situated, and looked as if the occupants had some respect 
to the comforts of this life. A passenger pointed out to us 
an embattled tower of an old abbey, in ruins, a breach in 
which he said was made by Cromwell's cannon — Puritan 
balls battering down Catholic establishments! — a poor way 
to convert the world ! The streets are narrow, with high, 
Dutch looking houses, huddled together without respect to 
comfort or order. A fair show of business is indicated by 
a large grain market, several cotton, wool, flax, and corn 
mills ; large stores, tanneries, salt-works, breweries, distil- 
leries, and steam and sail vessels. We noticed some boats 
on the river, above the bridge, which ply into the interior 
several miles. 

Two miles up the river is pointed out the place of the 
famous battle of the Boyne, in 1690, where an obelisk has 
been erected to the memory of the Duke of Schomberg, 
who fell in the fight, and near the spot where king William's 
army crossed the Boyne 

After leaving the miserable huts forming the suburbs of 
the town, we had little to interest us for some distance, ex- 
cept the fun and nonsense of a half drunken Irishman, 
and young fellow some-way conrected with this line of 
coaches. The youngster passed himself off as the " Mar- 
quis ofCollybeg," and claimed of the poor inebriate, respect 
due to his station. Many a keen joke passed between 
them ; the incredulous toper — whom we named " Lord 
Staggereen" — denying his claim to such a title. We were 
not a little amused at this bandying of high-sounding titles 
by men not much less worthy than many who play their 
pranks in sober earnest. " What makes the mighty differ," 
after all ? These men amuse themselves a7id others with 
their nonsense ; others confine ail the amusement to them- 
selves, and torture others in doing it. I felt as much respect 
for the " Marquis of Collybeg" as for any other artificial 



APPEARANCE OF THE COUNTRY. 407 

nobleman ; nay more than for some of •' blood," for he has 
done the world some service, and shown some honest prin- 
ciple, by making himself useful in taking good care of the 
horses — feeding them well, and keeping them sleek and fit 
for the journey, while they do little more than kill time, 
neglect opportunity, abuse confidence, squander means, 
vegetate in indolence, a disgrace to themselves and human- 
ity. And " Lord Staggereen" deserved as much of my 
compassion, for having fallen under the untoward influences 
of a legalized business, as any aristocratic family, whose 
character and estates have gone to decay, by their foolish 
extravagance and wicked habits. Both need a reform. 

Soon after leaving Drogheda the aspect of the country 
changes ; instead of smooth rounded hills, the land becomes 
poorer, the hills more rocky and elevated, and the country 
generally more uneven than about Dublin, or even in tlie 
south, except among the mountains of Killarney. As we 
ascended the hills, we had fine views of the pretty country 
along the Boyne and south of it, and along the coast to the 
north-east as far as the mountains of Armagh and Down. 
Before us the surface became more uneven, and the hills 
more rough and lofty, but, in some places, the well tilled 
farms and comfortable dwellings, the spreading valleys, and 
well-stocked pastures, showed signs of thrift and industry, 
sufficient to indicate what might be done under more favor- 
able circumstances The face of the country reminded me 
of parts of New England, but there were wanting the neat 
farm houses, and large barns, extensive fields, thrifty villages, 
pretty churches, school-houses, and well-habited population. 
Every thing wears the appearance of age and decay, like 
farms whose owners have grown old or died, and left them 
in the charge of indolent and profligate sons. Occasionally 
we passed an estate under good cultivation, with an elegant 
mansion-house, with out-buildings, garden, shade- trees, 
walks, fountains, fields, every thing to correspond with a 
display of taste and wealth rarely seen at home. But al- 
most invariably, a miserable hamlet of thatched cabins. 



408 IRISH VILLAGES. 

tenanted by miserable inhabitants, the men idhng about the 
taverns, the women " sitting on the style," the children with 
smutty faces, and almost bare of clothes, at play around the 
mud -holes and muck-heaps before the doors. Such sights 
suggested a thought of an other kind of New England vil 
lages, where the agents of the factories live, in large hand- 
some houses, with a neat paling about the front yards, while 
the poor workers, men, women, and children, whose bones 
and sinews, fingers and sweat, time and life, are wasted to 
enrich the lords of the spindles, are crowded into rows of 
low inconvenient houses, dingy about the doors and window- 
sills, and every way slovenly and repulsive. And I could not 
help comparing the actual condition of the people living 
under such circumstances. The contrast was so similar 
I could hardly strike a balance in favor of either. Both 
depend upon the will of their loj^d, for all they have; for the 
house they live in, the prices of labor, the means of their 
subsistence. Neither is compelled to stay against their 
will, but they have no loill — to do otherwise. Both com- 
plain of their condition, but neither has ability to improve 
it. Both lead a cringing, servile life, and must act, and 
vote, and almost think, to suit their arrogant employers. 
Human nature is about the same in Europe and America, 
in an Irish town or factory village, an "Up. town," or 
"West-End" palace, or Georgia Plantation. 

A few miles out from Drogheda, the extensive remains 
of an ancient abbey were pointed out. They stand on a 
picturesque site, in a romantic valley about a mile from the 
road. The martial tower, which was added to the abbey 
after the suppression of the monastic orders, when it was 
converted into a feudal castle and fitted up for a place of 
defence, the gateway, and chapel are all that remain, of 
what was once a vast religious establishment. These monu- 
ments of piety and pride, learning and superstition, oppres- 
sion and indolence, intolerance and war, carry the thoughts 
back through strange and jarring elements, through which 
humanity has jostled on to its present somewhat improved 



COLLON. 409 

and hopeful condition. And still these monuments stand as 
objects of curiosity to this age, especially to one unfamiliar 
as I am with the outward forms of religious and political 
feudalism. Wont to breathe the air of liberty from my 
childhood, taught by my father that the only distinction to 
be tolerated among men is based on personal merit, and 
that to God every one is responsible for what he is and 
what he does, I have come to have a profound abhorrence 
for all the assumptions of aristocracy, whether of birth, 
wealth, or profession. The man who makes a good boot is 
more honorable than he who makes a had lord. It is not 
the vocation that honors the man, but the man the voca- 
tion. A despotic king, an unjust judge, a proud and licen- 
tious priest, an ungenerous and iron-hearted man of wealth, 
and a faithless friend, are abominations in the sight of 
God, and the loathing of just and honorable minds. 

Collon is a neat little town, the property of Viscount 
Massarene, and formerly the residence of Lord Oriel, the 
last speaker of an Irish Parliament. The comparative neat- 
ness and order of this town, give it an air of comfort and 
rural beauty which speak volumes in praise of the "pro- 
prietor." It is such an evidence as every Irish landlord 
should exhibit, under existing laws — a disposition to do all 
he can for the improvement of his tenantry, for thereby he 
will not only serve them but enrich himself, and thus do 
good service for the world while in it. But if suspicions 
are not groundless, these improvements, in part, are owing 
to English gold and Irish treachery, by which the liberty of 
this nation was bartered into the Union. 

The road hence, by Ardee, the capital of Lowth, to 
Carrickmacross, runs through a rough tract of country, 
broken into rocky hills, narrow valleys, full of low mea- 
dows, small lakes, and wet bogs. Still, it is romantic, 
and some parts are tolerably cultivated. Decent dwell- 
ings, all over this county, have specific names, by which 
they are designated. Usually, though not always, the 
name of the town, village, or hamlet is appropriated to 

86 



410 ARISTOCRATIC NAMES. 

ihem, as " Collyheg Castle, the residence of the noble 
Marquis of Collybeg ;" " Potcheen House, Lord Stag- 
gereen ;" " Lackhrain Lodge, Earl Nonsense ;" " Fudge- 
ton, Sir Nolen McNinney ;" "Killmanjield, Right Hon. 
Twistem Thumbscrew ;" " Dull-lawney, Pridegirt O'Fus- 
tian, Esq. ;" " Drumdiddle Hall, Mrs. O'Fussbetty ; " 
" Groggery Hollow, Mrs. McWhiskey," and such like 
euphonious and expressive terms. One thing has struck 
me with much force : such aristocratic names sound ama- 
zingly English, as if they had their origin and use subse- 
quent to the Conquest. I have thought a new field for the 
exploration of English historians might be found here, es- 
pecially for those of the Philological Society, and that, by 
tracing the form and use of some of these terms of desig- 
nation, a little insight might be gained into the origin and 
progress of aristocratic privileges and oppressions. Such 
a work would, doubtless, be read with some interest and 
profit, by a certain class at home, who ape the customs of 
foreigners, and give great names to parts of streets, 
as if it were more honorable to live in " Humbug Place" 
than Humdrum Avenue. And those who name their old 
farm-houses by some "great swelling word" would undoubt- 
edly peruse such a work with pleasure. It might do for 
Geneial Jackson to call his house " The Hermitage," Mr. 
Clay, " Ashland," and Mr. Van Buren, " Lindenwald," but 
even in them it looks a little MW-democratic. I once heard 
a story told of an Europeanized American of some literary 
pretensions, who named his residence, in honor and love of 
his wife, " Glen-Mary." An honest old Dutchman, near 
by, who loved his wife as well, imitated the refined and lite- 
rary example, and called his place " Glen-Betsey." 

Carrickmacross is the first town in Ulster. To us it 
was rendered attractive by the vast assemblage of people. 
It was Fair-day, and the street, for a mile, was crowded 
with people, horses, hogs, cows, asses, sheep, and goats, 
young and old ; dry goods, groceries, books, boots, dried 



FAIK AT CARRICKMACROSS. 411 

fruit, green vegetables, grain, potatoes, butter, cheese — all 
sorts of things, jumbled together helter-skelter. Auction- 
eers were bawling, pedlars hawking, babies crying, women 
scolding, men drinking, smoking, and quarreling ; the young 
folks chatting, laughing, dancing, frolicking. Beggars of 
all descriptions haunting us from one end of the town to the 
other. It was judged 5000 people, 500 head of cattle, as 
many sheep, and hogs without number were there, and 
goods enough to clothe, and provisions enough to feed the 
whole But, alas, few were permitted to do more than 
look at them. It was a sort of beggars' fair. The lame, 
the halt, the blind, the sick, the decrepit, were there, beg- 
ging of whom they could, and exhibiting their deformities 
to excite sympathy and secure a penny. Of course, de- 
cently clad strangers, able to ride in a coach, could not pass 
unbegged. We were importuned at every step. Here a 
mother thrust her skeleton child into our faces ; an other 
exposed her cancer breast ; a little girl led her blind 
father to us ; a fourth exhibited a fractured leg. The most 
hideous looking being I ever saw in mortal shape was an 
old man, a complete skeleton, doubled together, his chin 
resting on his knees, with his fleshiess legs and arms ex- 
posed to view. As we passed him, he turned upon us a 
deathly stare, and stretched out his long thin arm, mutter- 
ing a prayer in the name of the Almighty and the Holy 
Virgin, that we would give him something to keep him 
from starving. His hollow cheeks, projecting jaws, eye- 
balls sunken deep in their sockets — oh, horror, I can not de- 
scribe him — the image of Death, doubled together ! 

Carrickmacross was granted, by Queen Elizabeth, to the 
Earl of Essex, and is still possessed by his descendants — 
the Marquis of Bath has one poi^tion, neglected, filthy, and 
miserable ; Mr. Shirley the other, who is on the spot, to 
look after his estate, which shows signs of thrift and com- 
fort. How different from the towns in our country. Here 
the will of one man regulates every thing. The people 
have no will, or, what is the same, no opportunity to exer- 



412 MONAGHAN. 

cise it, no individual enterprise, no pride, no ambition, 
nothing to stimulate them. They bend, by dire necessity, 
to the dictate of their earth-lord. If he is a man of soul, 
of enterprise, all goes very well ; if the reverse, and a hard- 
hearted, indolent, pleasure-loving spendthrift, his tenantry — 
the population of a whole town — must suffer for his sins; 
children be brought up in filth and ignorance, on a subsist- 
ence barely sufficient to keep soul and body together. 
More pains is taken to rear a fine colt than a fine child ; to 
keep a large, well-filled hunting park, than a decent village, 
furnished with the means of comfort and intelligence. 
And then the poor Irish are belabored, by every John Bull, 
as an indolent, worthless race, destitute of all enterprise, 
doing nothing for their own improvement. Why does one 
side of Carrickmacross present tokens of thrift and com- 
fort so superior to the other ? 

Passing Castle Claney, a town of some business, and 
tolerably well built, we came to Monaghan, the county town, 
where the coach stopped for the passengers to dine. I 
thought it a favorable place for such a service ; but while 
waiting for necessary preparations, the beggars came about 
us so thick, and looked so famished and destitute, that I could 
not eat in peace. I bought some small loaves of barley 
bread and distributed among them. They received them 
with many thanks, and prayers, " May the blissed Virgin 
protict ye and give ye a safe journey ; may the good 
Lord reward ye in heaven" — and devoured it with an ap- 
parently keen relish. I tried to eat some, just to see what 
food they live on. It was intolerable ; so tough I could 
scarcely masticate it. I was glad to find others willing to 
do that service for me. 

I called at a confectionary and bought some cakes. The 
keeper, a well dressed woman, asked me if I had come from 
Dublin, and how the case of Mr. Mitchel had been decided. 
I answered, against him. She clasped her hands and raised 
her eyes, exclaiming, " Oh, my God, is it possible ! I am a 
Catholic, but it is a bitter shame that a man like Mr. Mitchel 



CONVERSATION WITH A LADY. 413 

should be hung for speaking in favor of his country, and 
pleading for the life and honor of our people. But, alas !" 
she sighed, " what can we do ? Our landlords wrench from 
us all our earnings, and our taxes eat up all we have. We 
shall soon all be in the work-house." 

" Oh," said I cheeringly, " come to America ; we are all 
lords there, and those who will deserve it may live com- 
fortably." 

" Would to God I were there, for now I have no longer 
an attachment to my country. We are no country. We 
are only a province, the vassals of England ; and they will 
hang our best men, for daring to tell them the truth. Shame, 
shame, shame," and she actually wept. 

I spoke some words of encouragement, assuring her they 
would not hang Mitchel, and that steps would be taken to 
ameliorate the condition of her countrymen. " Never, 
never ; we have been promised too long. England has no 
love for us." 

"Nor you for them," I interrupted. 

" No, by the living heavens, we have not — and how can 
we have ? Love those who cheat, oppress, and starve us ? 
Never, so long as I have a heart to feel an insult." 

" But you should love your enemies." 

" That will do to preach and talk about at church, but 
this is no time to practice it. It is a day of vengeance, a 
time of calamity. We have suffered too long and too 
severely, to submit to such cold-blooded outrages peaceably. 
You know nothing of the miserable condition of this coun- 
try. And now English bayonets are to stop our mouths. 
We must submit in silence. When one is angry it is a re- 
lief to speak, and a word will check grief But no ; we 
can speak no more. Next they will not let us think " 

" Ay, that is the fault of your people," said I ; " you have 
not been allowed to think freely. You have been told 
what to think, and what you must not believe. You have 
not been taught to read God's word, to think, believe, and 

35* 



414 A PRACTICAL CHRISTIANITY 

act for yourselves, and how can you be free ? how can you 
unite to assert and defend your rights ?" 

" I confess there is a wrong, a great wrong, somewhere ; 
that we can accomplish nothing. And there is now no 
hope. O'Cctnnel, from the west, and a Catholic, could not 
succeed ; and now Mr. Mitchel, from the north, a Protestant, 
is condemned. We are doomed to ruin and disgrace." 

" Till yo'ur people become intelligent, industrious, and 
capable of freedom !" 

"What of that? My husband and myself have labored 
industriously, and been most economical ; we have done 
our best to deserve a competence. We can barely live. It 
takes every thing to pay rents and cesses, whether we have 
little or much. No, Sir, there is no hope for Ireland ; the 
cloud of final despair has closed over us, for ever. Our 
doom is sealed ;" and tears glistened in her eyes. 

" But you suffer from your associations with others, less 
industrious and frugal, whom you are obliged to help sup- 
port. When ihey become like you, a better fortune will 
attend you." 

" That may be true, in part. But are not the established 
clergy informed ? Are not English lords informed? Do 
not the Queen and her ministers understand ? And what 
is done to ease our burdens, and improve our condition ? 
Nothing, Sir, nothing, but, every year, we are taxed more 
and more ; and if we thrive at all our rents are raised. One 
man owns every thing, and we can not remove to an other 
part of the town to continue our business ; and we must 
continue where we are and submit to every oppression, or 
quit the country. If you are an American you ought to 
judge more correctly, for I hear you are just and honorable, 
even to the poor." 

" I confess your lot is hard ; and with you, I agree that 
the prospect of any thing better looks dubious indeed. I 
can see how you could be better, but I do not see how you 
are to begin to improve. If your lords would do right, all 



MOST NEEDED. 415 

would, in time, go well, provided the people would do right 
also." 

" I hope you don't think the people ought to submit to the 
oppressions and injustice inflicted on them,"' said she, re- 
proachfully. 

" Not at all, madam ; I mean they should do right by 
themselves ; study to be wise, to be industrious, to be neat, 
to live in peace, and shame their lords, and 

" Shame their lords. Shame the devil as soon," said she, 
sneeringly. " Every Irishman will despise them for the 
wrongs they have done." 

" That is the evil. You have not enough of the spirit 
of forgiveness. You mutually recriminate one an other. 
You must all try to do better ; you must all repent, and 
mutually forgive, as you hope to be forgiven. Your priests 
must instruct, and not rule the people ; your lords must 
help and not oppress them. Human governments are no- 
thing where moral principle prevails, in short, you must 
love, and not devour one an other. You must he Christians, 
true, practical, christians ; familiar with the truth and pre- 
cepts of the gospel. You must rise above party, above sect. 
You must not be Catholics and Protestants from education, 
and for the sake of the party, but Christians from principle, 
from the love of truth and virtue. In America we have 
all sorts of doctrines in religion and politics, but people 
are coming to be esteemed for what they are worth morally, 
intellectually, socially." 

" That is all well, and in your country it can be prac- 
tised ; but here I assure you it can not." 

" Why, my dear woman, Christianity can be practised 
every where, so be a person has its spirit, and submits to 
its power. We may come as far short as you do. But I 
am speaking of the principle as a means of progress and 
social improvement. Your people have been trained from 
infancy to sub?nit to the priest, to submit the highest faculty 
of the soul — that which should be independent — appealing 
with confidence to God, dii^ectly, not through another mor- 



416 SPIRITUAL LIBERTY ENCOURAGED. 

tal. They have not dared to think for themselves, as an- 
swerable to the great Judge,, who knows the heart, and all 
its motives. So, when they are grown up, they submit to 
temporal as well as spiritual governors, who abuse their 
privilege, and play the tyrant at your expense. At length 
the burdens become insupportable, and you revolt : First, 
against that which seems the more direct cause of your 
misery ; that which lies nearest you in your crushed con- 
dition — the landlord, the tax-gatherer, the State. If you 
will search, you will find, back of all this, in your habit of 
suhinission to the will and dictate of others, is owing one 
great cause of the misery you complain of You want 
"soul-liberty" most. That must precede every other. 
' Seek fii-st the kingdom of God and its righteousness ; then 
shall these things be added to you.' " 

" There is some force in your remarks, I must confess ; 
but how can we come to understand them ? Stay, kind 
sir," added she, imploringly, " and teach them to our people." 

" I fear your people would not hear them from a foreign- 
er, and a Protestant : and besides you have men to teach 
them to you. You can read them in the Bible." 

" But they have condemned Mr. Mitchel for teaching 
them, and our priests do not encourage us to read the Bi- 
ble. Many can not if they would." 

" The error of Mr. Mitchel was in being too rash. He 
had faith, but lacked 'patience,' like most other reformers. 
He should have taken more time to prepare the people for 
freedom. It will not do to hasten the growth, if we would 
have it sure and strong. The oak is not produced in a 
day. Jonah's gourd grew in a night, and it perished in a 
night 'First the blade, then the ear, then the full 
corn in the ear.' Time is essential to maturity. As 
for your priests, they must study over again the duties 
of a good minister of Jesus Christ ; and, to their other ex- 
cellent qualities add an ' aptness to teach,' and must be 
more zealous to serve than to rule the people. For your- 
selves, you must read, reflect, and act. Teach these little 



MONAGHAN. 417 

ones," continued I, looking at some pretty and neatly clad 
children who had a little before came into the room, " to 
read God's Holy Word, to understand it, and love and 
obey it ; and persuade your neighbors to do so to theirs, and 
such as can not do it, you should help. This is the work 
of humanity, and God will bless you for it ; and, as soon as 
your nation is grown into the light of knowledge, it will 
possess a power that will be irresistible to wrong. By 
knowledge, your wrongs shall be redressed, and your peo- 
ple made free, and prosperous, and happy." 

She was about to add some thing, when, looking across 
the " Diamond" square, I saw the horses harnessed to the 
coach. I scattered the change she had given me among 
her pretty children, bade her farewell, and hastened to join 
my companians, distributing my cakes among the hungry 
beggars who flocked about us. The good lady impressed 
me favorably by her manners and intelligence. Every 
thing about her establishment looked neat and orderly, and 
she certainly exhibited a degree of talent and feeling which 
would honor the women of any country. 1 have not done 
full justice to her remarks. It was impossible to give her 
language. She spoke fluently, and in that round, smooth 
voice so peculiar to the educated Irish, and used a style of 
phraseology which must be heard to be appreciated I 
could not banish her from my mind. She spoke with ear- 
nestness, and with a full knowledge of the condition of her 
country. There is hope for Ireland ; for when the women 
become enlisted in a cause, it must prosper. They rule the 
w^orld. 

Monaghan exhibits some signs of improvement. A 
handsome modern church, court-house, work-house, college, 
and some older buildings of fair appearance, such as houses 
of worship for the Catholics, Presbyterians, Methodists, Inde- 
pendents, and a few private dwellings. The jail and bar- 
racks must not be omitted, for they stand prominent in 
every large town. The latter is a cavalry station, and a 
fair show of military is daily kept up to frighten the people 



418 EMYVAT.E AUGHNACI,OY. 

into ]oyalt3\ Near the town, we passed the canal, from 
Belfast to Inniskillen, on which we noticed a few dirty coal 
boats, and one or two loaded with grain and lumber. 
What adds greatly to this town, is its elevated position, and 
the pleasant groves about it, which, in this country, so per- 
fectly destitute of any thing like forests, have a peculiar 
charm we had never attached to them. 

The country, from Monoghan by Emyvale, is prettily di- 
versified with hills, vales, streams, and small, loughs. The 
farms are in a tolerable state of improvement. Every 
thing looks decidedly better than is common in the west 
and south. The farms are smaller and better cultivated, 
the cottages neater and more comfortable : the people are 
better dressed, and appear more cheerful and intelligent ; 
and, out of the towns., there is less begging, and fewer 
sights of abject misery. Still there is not that marked im- 
provement we had hoped to find in Ulster, from all we had 
heard in its praise. A fellow-passenger assured us it is far 
better to the east, in Armagh, Down, and Antrim, but I be- 
gin to fear the prosperity of Ireland is like the poor man's 
treasure, always in prospect, or like the bag of gold hung 
at either end of the rainbow, fleeing as it is approached. 

Passing Aughnacloy, a market-town, containing a single 
street, and some narrow lanes, a church, a Catholic chapel, 
and meeting-houses for other denominations — such are the 
designations here — we came to Ballygawley, where we left 
the stage, and took a car to Fintona. The lusty guard 
tipped his hat to us, and asked us to give him "something." 
As he had done us no service, we refused. He looked an- 
gry and began to bluster, when the driver, who had been 
very polite to us, answering our thousand questions 
about what we saw, and afllbrding us a good deal of infor- 
mation about the country and the people, and amusement 
with his Irishisms and " Lord Stagereen," whispered to him, 
and all was right. 

While waiting for the car, we were beset by numerous 
beggars. One, a half-clad woman, not much above middle 



AMERICA, AN ALMS HOUSE. 419 

age, followed us into the hotel, asking us to give "poor 
Betty a ha'penny." The inn-keeper seized hold of her and 
dragged her put, as though she had been a brute. She 
squalled, and begged, and threatened, in a most indecent 
manner, using language too base and profane for repel i- 
lion. I have been surprised at the unfeelingness manifested 
Towards the miserable wretches who infest all the towns 
and villages of this country. They are scorned and driveji 
away as if they were reptiles, and by those barely a grade 
above them. But this conduct has an explanation in the 
condition of society, the distinctions, oppressions, and con- 
sequent ignorance, poverty, and degradation. They make 
beggary the business of their lives. They become a race, 
a beggar bandit, and have no higher aim than to live upon 
others earnings for they can do nothing for themselves. 
Multitudes of this miserable class are annually transported 
to our shores by public charity, merely to get rid of them. 
Our large cities are yearly more and more infested with 
them. Social evils do not stop with individuals directly 
implicated in guilt. They are diffusive, spreading their 
baneful influences like a mildew, upon the whole communi- 
ty. In our country we suffer severely from the injuries in- 
flicted upon the people of ihis country, and it becomes an 
object worthy of our government to inquire into the reme- 
dies for these evils. It would be wrong, perhaps, to refuse 
to admit the pauper population of Great Britain into our 
States — it might appear uncharitable ; but it will become 
a question for our statesmen to solve, whether America is 
to be made the alms-house of all creation — whether emi- 
grants shall not bring something more than their skin and 
bones, and rags, and dirt, and vermin, in order to gain a 
residence, and be adopted as citizens. A family, neighbor- 
hood, or town would not be satisfied — would not suffer such 
a state of things. Why should a nation submit to such an 
imposition upon good nature ? England is going to some 
expense to ship off her poor to Australia, thinking they 
can be supported cheaper there than at home. But little 



420 REBELS PREFERABLE TO PAUPERS. 

will be done in that way, so long as £4 will send them to 
the open arms of Brother Jonathan, who will take good 
care of them. I would not shut the doors of our country 
against foreigners ; nor against the poor who are abandoned 
by their (un) natural guardians ; but I would have a proper 
discretion used about the terms on which we shall adopt 
our neighbor's children and all the foundlings in creation. 
] would let them know that we will not father all the off- 
spring of their illicit and inhuman intercourse ; that they 
must send them to us tolerably clad, decently fed, with 
enough practical knowledge to make them capable of self- 
support, with the advantages we can give them. Let the 
standard be that no emigrants shall be landed except such 
as can read and write, and have some knowledge of work, 
unless too young, or with money sufficient to support them- 
selves till they can learn to do so. The time was when 
England would allow no artisan to come to us from that 
country, for fear we should steal some of their trades. We 
have found them out, and grown rich, and she is taking 
vengeance by sending all her paupers to us for support. 
Her political offenders we would take off her hands, willing- 
ly ; for they know some thing and we are not afraid of their 
radicalisms ; I would respectfully suggest whether it would 
not be politic and humane to send Messrs. Mitchel, O'Brien, 
Meagher, ODonohue, and others, to us and save the great 
expense of fitting out ships, and mariners, and military sta- 
tions to provide for their safety and comfort. We will use 
them well, and their wives and little ones, and agree they 
shall do no mischief. The money so saved would help 
many a poor Irishman to a patch of earth on which to sup- 
port his wife and children. 

" Poor Betty" and the crowd hung about the door, and 
when we came out to mount the car, she redoubled her en- 
treaties with such vehemence that all the other beggars 
were put to shame. The landlord asked her if she could'nt 
let the gentlemen go in peace. She turned to him a look 
of defiance and said, " And would ye let poor Betty stharve 



FINTONA. 421 

ye old carlin and brute, to thrate a pour woman so. The 
gintilmen knoo better as ye, and they have a shoul to fale 
for a craytur in distress." In every town there are lots of 
idlers, loafing about, who are pleased with any thing which 
breaks the tedium of their vacancy, and excites the least 
degree of entertainment. 

On the hill above the street is the demesne of Sir Hugh 
Stewart, the " owner of the town," and an extensive tract 
about it. Jt sounds queer to be told that this man or that 
owns a whole town of several thousand inhabitants, and 
every thing around it. Were it so generally in our country, 
Anti-rentism would soon work a revolution. 

The road to Fintona is crooked, and, in some places wild 
and romantic ; in others very beautiful, bordered by rows 
of trees, and occasionally decent cottages, and respectable 
farm houses. But every now and then, the country is " dis- 
figured" by hamlets of miserable, low huts, with thatched 
roofs and every thing slovenly about them. The face of 
the land itself is less beautiful than through Monaghan, con- 
taining a large share of dreary moor, wet bogs, and heather 
hills. Industry, however, has been employed to some ac- 
count, so that, on the whole, this region compares favorably 
with most other parts of the kingdom, and is decidedly in 
a better condition than some portions of the south and 
west, though naturally, far less beautiful and productive. 

We drove to the only inn in the town, and put up for the 
night, weary and willing to be satisfied with such accommo- 
dation as we could find. Had it been otherwise, we might 
have been less contented. But when people do all they 
know with the means they have — the ladies give up the 
best room in the house, it is not well to complain. The 
traveler goes to see more than to improve, the world, and 
should be content to view things as they are, and not find 
fault because every thing is not as he would have it. 

May 28. — It is a calm, sweet Sunday morning. There 
is some thing beautiful in the Christian Sabbath. Nature 
seems more quiet and serene ; the sun shines brighter ; the 

36 



422 SUNDAY. 

birds sing sweeter; the grass looks greener; the flower? 
bloom fresher ; and every body appears more cheerful and 
happy. The smile of God is upon all his works. The pure 
in heart see God, and delight to worship at his holy altar. 

I see, from my chamber, multitudes of people going to 
early mass, in squads of three or four, seeming quite cheerful 
and happy. The street is full of them. I always admired 
the dev^otion of the Catholics. I have seen them in out 
city, in cold mid-winter mornings, assemble before day- 
light, to hear the service, or repeat the " Pater Nos- 
ters." Sincerity always commands respect, and should 
be treated generously, however much we may deplore 
the ignorance and superstition some times connected 
with it. These people give proof of their honesty and 
piety. But these are not enough, the only requisites of re- 
ligion. They do not "grow in grace, and in the knowledge 
of our Lord Jesus Christ ?" Christianity is represented 
as a race, and all are required to run in it. To do so, a 
feeling of liberty and responsibility is necessary for every 
individual, who vi^ill be thus stimulated to go forward, re- 
lying upon God and his own exertions for success. For 
not having been so taught, Ireland, the church, and the 
world now suffer. Blame is attached to other times, and 
circumstances complained of, and every method devised to 
shirk responsibility, even if it be by reproaching the provi- 
dence of God himself. Coupled with the submission and 
quietism insisted on by the church, is the practical doctrine 
of a virtual fatality, which is generally cherished, and leads 
to the inactivity, and moral and social dormancy which 
every where prevails. The people have no faith in any 
thing better. They see no gleam of light, no Jacob's lad- 
der for their ascent to a better condition. A dark pall is 
spread all over them, and they sit down, and fold their arms 
in sullen despair, and rise only when compelled to go 
to their tasks of work or prayer, and return to their 
scanty meal of stir-a-bout, or potatoes, and pallet of straw. 
They never seek to rise. They have no faith, no heart, 



CASTLE LODGE. 423 

no hope. How can they make an effort ? Submission, 
patient, unmurmuring, hopeless, soul-killing submission ! 
That is their lesson from year to year, and every day of 
their lives, in the field and in the chua-ch ; taught alike by 
policeman and beadle, magistrate and priest. Where is 
Ireland's hope ? Where the remedy of her wrongs ? Her 
weary, starved children turn their dim eyes and cadaverous 
faces towards America. But if they take their priests and 
their prejudices, their ignorance and their indolence with 
them there, they shall gain little by the change They can 
lose nothing — so their game is desperate, as far as home is 
concerned. They can not be worse; they may be better 
— so they submit to the fate which compels them to go. 
When there, they must be taught the first lessons of man- 
hood — to be free — to think and act for themselves — to do 
and to be for themselves — to rise above servitude — to de- 
spise submission to another's will — and then, with humility 
their own, engage in whatever offers, not as " eye-servants," 
but from 'principle, ready to do what ever is honest, know- 
ing that such is honorable. 

While at breakfast, we received a call from the kinsman 
of my friend, who invited us to " Castle Lodge," a neat lit- 
tle cottage, just out of the village, standing back from the 
road, fronted by a handsome flower and culinary garden, 
and shaded by some stately trees, with a lawn spreading 
off to the left, and a hill rising in the rear. Every thing 
about it looks neat, genteel, and comfortable. We were 
glad to avail ourselves of such an opportunity to refresh 
our spirits by an interchange of sentiments, and the tokens 
of friendship, which add so much to the comforts and 
charms of life. 

The Surgeon is an intelHgent man, retired, on half-pay, 
from the naval service, in which he spent several years at 
different stations in Europe, Asia, and America, of a kind 
disposition, and thoroughly British in his feelings. He ex- 
pressed the loftiest admiration of the naval prowess of his 
country, and, though stationed on our coast during a part 



424 RUNDALE LEASES. 

of the last war, had no particular knowledge of certain en- 
counters between the lion and the eagle ; and, as guests, 
we took no pains to refresh his menaory. We were more 
anxious to learn his views of the condition and prospects 
of Ireland, the cause and cure of her miseries. Upon 
these topics we conversed freely, and at length. He spoke 
of the ignorance and misery of Ireland in the severest 
terms, and attributed all to the wickedness of the priests 
and indolence of the people, called them lazy, bigoted, rest- 
less, ungovernable ; and said " they are like the Canaanites, 
doomed of God, to extinction." In my thoughts I added, 
and the English are like the Jews, a hard-hearted, stiff- 
necked, and disobedient nation, most highly favored, but 
most cruelly oppressive in the use of their privileges. We 
questioned him till the subject became clear to my mind. 
He had been one of the immense number hired and paid 
by government to do nothing but help waste the energies 
of the nation. After a few years service in patching up 
broken limbs, and extracting lead bullets, he retired to an 
easy and comfortable life. All who, like him, live out of 
the public soup dish, may well complain of those who jog- 
gle their elbows. 

A curious expedient is resorted to in this country to se- 
cure the payment of rents. Large tracts of lands are rented 
in what is called " rundale" or " partnership holdings." 
The land-owner, or large middle-man, induces several te- 
nants to take a tract in common, and divide and work it to 
suit themselves ; by this means they are able to make each 
one jointly, and severally, liable for the whole rent ; so that 
if one does not pay, he can levy on the property of the 
whole, and distrain or eject at pleasure. In short, no con- 
trivance which avarice can suggest, or extortion execute, 
is wanting to wrench from the people the last farthing to 
support aristocratic distinctions. This downward course 
has been pursued so long, that both owners and occupants 
have become miserable together, and their existence is their 
mutual dependence. One can not rise without the other. 



DECAY OF THE LINEN BUSINESS. 425 

neither can sink much lower. The first are anxious to keep 
up their honorable and ancient family distinction, the other 
must have a Uving, or it can not be done. Most estates are 
heavily incumbered, and mortgages, by chancery right, are 
always more oppressive and unfeeling than the nominal 
owners. Thus a double curse is inflicted on the common 
people. I have before suggested that Ireland can never 
prosper till this whole system is changed, and the people 
permitted to hold a right in the soil, either by long lease or 
in fee, which is infinitely better. 

An other cause of the great misery in the north, our friend 
attributed to the failure of the linen business, by the intro- 
duction of machinery and foreign competition. This was 
formerly the principal resource of this part of the country. 
Spinning wheels for the women, and looms for the men, 
were in every cabin ; now they are rarely seen. Every 
two weeks, markets were held in all large towns, where 
each workman brought his web, and each woman her yarn. 
The cloth was sold and the yarn bought, and each returned 
with his fortnight's gains. The farmer was there with his 
flax, the merchant with his cash, and all was life and pros- 
perity. Those days are past. Machinery drives spindles, 
and shuttles faster, and cheaper, and these poor spinners 
and weavers have nothing to do. Belfast, with a few thou- 
sand girls and boys' makes all the cloth, at a cheap rate, 
while the millions before employed are left without work, 
and Englishmen and royalists call them lazy. Corpora- 
tions monopolize the whole business, and individual en- 
teprise is left to starve. Belfast thrives while the interior 
towns go to decay. The business of the country is in- 
creased and the few get the benefit, while the masses are 
made worse. " But this need not be." It is, and you must 
convince these people that "it need not be." 

The more general introduction of manufactories might 
improve the country. There is vast water power on the 
Shannon, the Lee, the Boyne, the Foyle, at Ballyshannon, 
at Coloony, at Ballysydore, at Erris, at Galway : let turned 



426 THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH. 

upon machinery ; let the people be employed ; let landlords 
come home and take care of their farms ; and those who do 
not own any be cut off from their pretences ; let the crown 
lands be offered to the people, as a reward for industry ; let 
the bogs be drained, and waste lands be reclaimed ; let the 
immense fisheries be no longer neglected, nor the mines un- 
worked ; in short, let the resources of Ireland be developed 
for the good of the people ; give them a free church, and 
common schools, and little will be heard, in ten years, of 
the ignorance, misery, indolence, and intimidation of the 
Celtic race : no wail of wo, nor stench of misery will be 
wafted over this fair, and beautiful Isle but that which 
comes from a corrupt and dying aristocracy. 

We attended church at eleven. The building is neat, 
and comfortable, much like ours at home, except a pew on 
each side of the desk, elevated a step or two, with red cur- 
tains about them, for the " proprietors" of the town. The 
rest are on a level. The audience was small, say 150, half 
of whom were well clad, the rest attired in the costumes 
of the country. The sermon was very good — on love as 
the basis of all true religion and piety, and charity as the 
duty of the Christian. It was appropriate to a collection 
taken in behalf of the Tyrone Orphan Asylum, which 
was declared to be " unsectarian, for Catholics and Dissent- 
ers, as much as for Churchmen, for all whom misfortune 
has overtaken." I was glad to hear that announcement. 
Charity should know no limits. The blessed spirit of Chris- 
tianity will find its way to human hearts ; it will rise above 
all prejudice, and breathe life and love every where. The 
age of exclusiveness is passing away. Old forms remain 
— they are no more than shadows — the chrysalid invest- 
ments, no longer needed. The world is undergoing the 
process of regeneration. God, in humanity, will assert his 
rightful claim, and " his will be done in earth as in heaven." 
Amen ! 

Returning, we noticed the shops were open for traffic, as 
on week days ; the dram shops appeared to be too well pa- 



A CONVERSATION. 427 

tronized. Every where in this county we see the fearful 
words emblazoned, prophetic of misery and crime — " Li- 
censed to sell beer and spirits ;" to which are frequently 
added " wine and tobacco," which are apt to keep close 
company. Here is an other prolific cause of the wretched- 
ness of this country. Intemperance is the parent of innu- 
merable vices : half the world's misery ; and tippling is the 
immediate cause of intemperance. So long as govern- 
ments trifle with morality, and legalize the business of 
making drunkards, by selhng the exclusive privilege for a 
few pieces of silver, so long will it wear an air of respecta- 
bility, and tempt the unwary, beguile the simple, and besot 
the foolish, till all come to feel something of its diffusive 
curse. The evils of drinking are too well known to need 
description ; but when they are considered in connexion 
with the circumstances of the people, they become enor- 
mous. Jails and poor-houses are always needed where 
dram-shops are common ; and, if governments will license 
one, they must support the others, and the people, who con- 
sent to both, must be the sufferers. 

While sitting at the hotel, a corpulent man rode up, in a 
handsome carriage, and saluted an other, equally sleek and 
well-fed — a magistrate — and said, " Well, Miichel is sen- 
tenced to fourteen years' transportation ; I have it in a let- 
ter." " Good," said the other, with a sneer of triumph to- 
wards the men standing by ; " we may now hope for quiet, 
if O'Brien and Meagher follow." "Not so quiet as ye'd 
bay afther thenkin'," said several, as the gentlemen rode 
away. A long and exciting conversation followed, in true 
Irish style, with many expressions of patriotism. 

" An' Misther Mitchel was no Catholic," said one, " boot 
a Protestant an' a Presbytarian." 

" The divil a bit does an Englishman mind a Presbyta- 
rian, ony longer, ony boo ; bad luck to them ;" said a lean 
old man, in drab breeches, with a blue coat and slouched hat. 

"An' it's time all thrue Irishmin should spake frin'ship to- 
gither, an' lave aloone all aboot Ribbon-min an' Orange- 



428 OMAGH STRABANE. 

min," added a sedate man ; " we are inimies too long, and 
the Lord has given us no pace." 

" That same is thrue what ye spake, Misther O'Neil, ive- 
ry word of it." said an other ; " an' there'll be a mighty little 
moore throuble oov that sort in these parts. We must sthand 
till each ither, or we'll all be sent till banishmint togither." 

"Or stharved at home, which is more likely," said a thin, 
pale man. "An' what would they be afther doin with all 
oov us there, Misther O'Flannigan ?" 

" Not a divil a bit do they care foor us, an' they can git 
us oof our tinant-right, and drive us froom the coounthry. 
We may go till Amiriky, or Botany Bay, or the divil, and 
they'll care not a pinny." 

May 18. — An early ride brought us to Omagh, the capi- 
tal of Tyrone, a smart town, with a wide street, and the 
everlasting barracks, jail, and work-house, with the usual 
show of dwellings, business, and poverty — men waiting to be 
hired, and women to beg. Thence, by coach, to Strabane, 
through a dreary moorland, broken with he^ither hills, and 
here and there a smiling valley, broad strath, deep 
glens, and small streams with poetic names. The only 
town passed is Newtown Stewart, with a castle in ruins, 
and the house where James II. slept one night — a valuable 
relic ! Strabane is a large, bustling, dirty town of old rook- 
eries, huddled together in disorder, entirely the property of 
one man — the Marquis of Abercorn, who owns all this re- 
gion, much of which is in a miserable condition, though 
some parts show signs of improvement. A canal admits 
small vessels from the Foyle, and a railroad connects it 
with Londonderry. 

Londonderry is an old, important, and delightfully situa- 
ted town. Its history goes back to the 6th century, when 
St. Colomb founded a monastery here, since which it has 
been the scene of many stirring events, one of which is re- 
corded on "Walker's Testimonial," standing in the highest 
part of the city, in these words: — "This monument was 
erected to perpetuate the memory of Rev. George Walker, 



LONDONDERRY. 429 

who, aided by the garrison and brave inhabitants of this 
city, most gallantly defended it through a protracted siege, 
from the 7th Oct. 1688, O. S. to the 12th Aug. following, 
against an arbitrary and bigoted monarch, leading an army 
of upwards of 20,000 men, many of whom were foreign 
mercenaries ; and by such vahant conduct in numerous sor- 
ties, and by patiently enduring extreme privations and suf- 
ferings, successfully resisted the beseigers, and preserved for 
their posterity the blessings of civil and religious liberty." 
The names of Carnes, Leake, and Browning, are inscribed on 
the east side, Baker, Mitchelburn, and Murray, on the west. 

We ascended the tower of the cathedral, which over- 
looks the city, and a wide extent of country. In the 
vestibule we saw a bomb-shell which was thrown into the 
church yard, in 1689, by the French, containing proposals 
for peace. It is mounted on a pedestal and placed in a 
conspicuous position. We were also shown two flag-staffs 
taken fiom the French, which are displayed back of the 
high altar. We also visited a primary school, which for or- 
der and advancement came vastly short of such institutions 
at home. 

We walked entirely round on the city wall ; iii some places 
it runs along the brow of the hill, in others passes through 
the town, but every where presents objects of attraction. 
While standing over the west gate we saw an old woman, 
covered with a brown cloak, sitting on a hand barrow, eating 
dry meal. I went down and bought a loaf and slipped into 
her lap. She looked at it with astonishment, and, turning 
her head, said, " May the good Lord bliss yer honor and 
save your shoul." We stepped away, and soon a set of 
vagrants gathered about her, envying her good fortune. 
An old man and a boy, both in rags, soon came and took 
up the barrow and carried her away. 

The public and private buildings in and about Derry are 
very respectable. The " Bishop's Palace," a large mansion, 
with fine grounds about it, in the heart of the city, does not 
look like " bearing the cross." The Glynn-school, an unsec- 



430 LEAVE FOR SCOTLAND. 

tarian institution, college, lunatic asylum, and barracks, are 
situated on the sloping hills at some distance from the city. 
The city stands upon a high bluff, or tongue of land, with 
deep valleys running on either side, beyond which hills rise 
high, the sides of which are adorned with elegant dwellings, 
gardens, and fields. Lough Foyle opens before it, which ex- 
tends to the sea. It is a beautiful location. From Diamond 
square, in which stands the Town Hall, four streets radiate 
to the four gates. The city looks old, but it is a place of 
considerable business. There are many scenes of poverty 
and wretchedness mingled with the tokens of wealth and 
comfort. It is of far less importance, as a commercial 
town, now, than formerly, but it still carries on considera- 
ble trade with England, Scotland, and America, in the ex- 
port of cattle, produce, and people, and the importation of 
lumber, corn, sugars, and so forth, for the interior. 

Having occupied the day and seen all the wonders of the 
town, we decided to abandon our plan of visiting Antrim, 
Down and Belfast — being tired of a land so full of wrongs 
and miseries — so despoiled of its beauties and blessings, by 
injustice and social neglect — and went on board a steamer 
bound to Glasgow, at four o'clock. Here an other picture 
was presented which serves to illustrate the method of busi- 
ness, and manners of life in this country. The main-deck 
was crowded full of cattle, (160 head,) the forward cabin 
and quarter deck with steerage passengers, and piles of 
freight. Towards night I visited the cabin, and such a 
scene of wretchedness — no beds, few seats except the floor, 
only one dim taper, rags, dirt, smoke, profanity, scolding, 
laughing, singing — a complete pandemonium. Once they 
were all driven on deck to collect the fare. One by one 
they passed the clerk. Some protested they had no money. 
One old woman held out stoutly, till words waxed warm', 
and severe threats were given, when a little girl offered to 
pay a part ; then an other wrangle, and an other 3d., and so 
on till the last farthing was paid. At night the deck was 
covered with a mass of sleepers, nestling together in strange 



THE giant's causeway. 431 

confusion ; parents and children, men and women, young 
and old, indiscriminately packed together. In one squad I 
noticed a mother and six children. The decks were wet 
and few had any covering. The people seemed to be as 
little cared for as the cattle. The former are going to seek 
work in Scotland ; the latter to the Edinburgh market. 
We succeeded in obtaining decent berths, as there are but 
three or four cabin passengers, and so have a comfortable 
prospect before us. 

We stopped off Portstewart long enough to exchange pas- 
sengers with two small boats, which came out to us for that 
purpose ; and also at Portrush, the usual landing place for 
persons who come to visit the Giant's Causeway. We had 
intended to land here, till advised in Derry that we should 
see the wonders of the coast to the best advantage from the 
water. The Cliffs already appeared on our right, illumina- 
ted by the rays of the setting sun. On a projecting rock 
overhanging the sea, stood the ruins of an ancient castle. 
A rocky barrier, over which the breakers foamed in wild 
commotion, stretched directly across our path. Several 
naked islets lay on our left. We dashed through the foam- 
ing waves by a narrow inlet, and were soon in a bay com- 
paratively calm, and directly before the Cliffs, and the Caves 
of Partcoon and Dunkerry. The scene was grand and the 
moment exciting. The whole line of this magnificent coast 
stretched along our right. The shore for four or five miles, 
is scooped out into numerous little bays, from which cliffs 
resting on colonnades of columnar basalt, rise abruptly to 
the height of 300 or 400 feet. 

We were soon directly in front of the " Causeway," the 
wonder of my geographical studies ; of which I obtained a 
perfect view by help of the Captain's glass. Ranges 
of columns, placed one above an other, formed the wall of 
the bay, interlaid, with a horizontal strata of earth or rock, 
of a lighter hue. From the top of these, the gi'een lawn 
ascends back to the plain above. The Causeway itself is 
formed of numerous basaltic columns, of various sizes and 



432 THE GIANT. FAREWELL. 

length, placed one above an other, and perfectly articulated 
in a horizontal direction. It may be 300 feet wide, and 
descends, by uneven steps, from the height of 25 feet at the 
foot of the cliffs, towards the sea, till it dips under the water. 
Of the length towards us I could not judge — the whole area 
may cover two acres. On a projecting pedestal, part way 
up the little promontory from which the Causeway extends, 
is a curious formation of rock, which, by a little help of the 
imagination, presents the image of a huge man. This is 
called the "Giant," and is as perfect as the "Old Man of 
the mountains," at the Franconia Notch, or the man's face 
at Breakneck, on the Hudson, before it was mutilated. 
The tradition is, that giants undertook to build a bridge 
across the channel, to Scotland, but the Fates became en- 
raged, destroyed their works, and turned their leader into 
this monster image. It certainly presents a grotesque ap- 
pearance, and forms an object of great curiosity. It can 
be seen only from the water. The Aird's Snout, the Shep- 
herd's Path, the theatre, the organ, the ruins of Dunseve- 
rick, on the summit of a naked, isolated rock, which dates 
back of history, were severally pointed out to us as we 
passed along, each attracting special attention, and render- 
ing this coast an object of intense interest and admiration. 
The whole suggested to me the ruins of a gigantic city of 
massive structures, fronted by immense colonnades ; and, as 
such, seemed not inappropriate as an outpost of this re- 
markable Island. 

But the sun has gone to his rest on the bosom of the sea ; 
the dark shades are gathering fast in the little bays ; the 
heavy clouds are hanging about the drapery of night, 
through whose folds gleams the northern twilight, which, at 
this season, does not wane into complete darkness ; the 
green hills gradually recede from my view, and, with min- 
gled joy and regret, I bid farewell to the beautiful but un- 
fortunate Emerald Isle. 



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